It's A Promise
by letmesign172
Summary: The Life of a Twihard  based off plots and characters . **I wrote this awhile ago, and since I've had some committment issues in the past, I decided to guarantee: I will upload a chapter every Thursday.**
1. Chapter 1

Rain soaked the atmosphere – but that wasn't a shock.

I'd become so used to the coldness and the wetness; no longer did the noisy patter of rain keep me up at night and no longer did the crisp air numb my pale skin. Habitually, a fierce storm would roll by or a slight drizzle would blanket the ground in mist but rarely was there a day with no precipitation – and it would take a miracle for the sun to show its face in this verdant forest.

But this much was expected from the rainy town of Forks, Washington.

I hadn't lived here forever, though. My life had begun in the moderate city of Gaithersburg in the quaint little state of Maryland. My family often exceeded the borderline, however, traveling to our amiable weekend house in Bethany Beach, Delaware. The farthest west I'd ever been was California; the farthest south I'd ever been was Florida; the farthest north I'd been was Maine; and the farthest east was the coast of Ocean City, Maryland.

I was utterly confined within the East Coast up until the age of 18 – the age where I was legally free to go.

My parents begged me to stay close to them for college, Maryland University being their preference. Nonetheless, I dreamed of bigger and better places, as every prospering young adult does.

So off to Provo, Utah I went – "What are you, Mormon?" my father had protested – eventually graduating in the year 2017, with a bachelor's degree in literature. I adored the hobby of fictional writing – so much that it ultimately became my profession.

Immediately after college, I was invited to New York City by my two best friends from grade school, Taylor Smith and Ashley Madison. They had rushed to the Big Apple together the day after their high school graduations, going to college in Manhattan and eventually buying a penthouse on the pier.

For them it was a dream – for me it was a nightmare.

I'd never been much of city girl, and that was frighteningly apparent. Merely a week after I'd moved in with them, Taylor pointed out that I was having a miserable time and that I should move to somewhere rural before my negativity became infectious.

As much as I would miss my friends, I knew they were right. So, deciding that I had wasted enough of my time in North America, I dashed off to London, my ideal lifestyle being born.

Ask anyone: I was an implausible anglophile. Life under Big Ben was perfect, my house was an adorable little colonial, and I was even gaining an impeccable British accent.

If I could've, I would've stayed in England until the day I died.

However, one fateful morning, on the eve of my second year in Britain, I received a phone call from another one of my best grade school friends, Lilli Samuel, begging me to return to Maryland. Her job had unfortunately slipped through her fingers, and her unemployment forced her to give up on rent.

I grew selfish, making up excuses on "how I had developed some rare disease ergo I couldn't leave Europe" or "perhaps she could move to the UK and live with me." Sorry to say, she shot down each of my pleas, accusing that "I could get a vaccination" and "she couldn't afford plane tickets".

When my plane back to the U.S. finally landed, I scowled, wondering how, after all my attempts of elusion, this country kept hauling me back.

Of course, I regretted my reluctance; I knew I should've been a better friend and packed my bags without a single indecision. So, as if to repent, I remained living with Lilli for another two years, my anticipation of returning to England fading with every Pledge of Allegiance and Fourth of July holiday.

Nevertheless, my money and Lilli's combined still wasn't enough to pay the bills. Cordially, our grade school buddy, Karolina Rivera, stepped through the front door, contributing her share of the cash.

Somewhere within that time period of our dainty little life on rent, I published one of my novels, _If it Kills Me_. In fact, I had written the book towards the end of my eighth grade year; after a little tweaking, it was released on June 13th – my 27th birthday.

Literally days after it was publicized, I was offered a deal that I couldn't decline: .5 million dollars for every book I wrote.

I took the deal in a heartbeat, paying off our rent for the rest of eternity.

However, history began to repeat itself, and I became utterly bored with Maryland again. So, being the miraculous _Twilight _fan that I was, I moved to the Pacific Northwest, upper Washington State, taking Lilli along with me.

Karolina, however, was unable to stand the depressing weather so she moved to sunny San Diego, dropping in from time to time. Despite her mad dash to sunlight, she told us that, if we ever see any sign of Carlisle Cullen – handsome doctor and sparkly vampire of the _Twilight Saga_ – we were to call her straight away.

Lilli and I teasingly accepted her condition, knowing that if Dr. Cullen ever did cross our path that we would most likely pounce at him first.

After about a month of living peacefully and happily in Forks, Lilli was offered a spectacular deal also. She'd always been an aspiring anime artist, perhaps being one of the best manga artists I'd ever seen, and had been offered a irrefutable contract with Shonen Jump. She was allowed to work from the comfort of our home, sending her drawings to Tokyo whenever she felt the need or when she had epiphanies.

There was one glitch to this contract, though.

The first ten months of her employment, she was required to stay in Japan in order to keep an eye on all of her anime publications. She reluctantly left me and Forks, journeying across the Pacific Ocean, eventually to return in several months time.

Accordingly, we have come full circle.

Here I am, living in the solitude of Forks, making half a million dollars whenever I please. Although, it wasn't like the money was pooling in; I had always been immensely lethargic – so to finish a single page in a week was an unbelievable accomplishment.

This life of mine was good. Of course, I got lonely now and then, but that's what cellphones were invented for. I remained connected with my family in Maryland, my college acquaintances from Provo, Taylor and Ashley in New York, my brief comradeship with some Brits across the Atlantic, Karolina in California, and finally Lilli in Japan.

The day when everything changed, though, began utterly normal.

I woke to the jarring sound of my alarm clock, startling me to consciousness. My eyes flickered open, traveling to the window near my bedside. A white, eerie fog pressed up against the glass, confining me to my quarters. This seclusion did not depress me, though; every Forks morning began this way.

Rubbing my eyes excessively, I lifted one foot out of bed and then the other sleepily. The dark mahogany wood floors were cold, but, once again, this was something I'd grown used to.

My finger slammed down on my alarm aggressively, the annoying buzzes ceasing. Rain pounded on the roof piercingly, waking me up against my will. I shuffled groggily out into the hallway and into the bathroom. I was an unfortunate sight for sore eyes – my hair stuck to my face, significant bags loomed underneath my eyelids, and my pallid complexion seemed an even more ghostly white than usual.

Upon moving to the rainiest town in the continental US, my complexion had grown pale, often making me seem translucent. I actually hated the colorless aura I presented – I unnaturally stuck out against the dark, monotonous background the woodlands provided.

After a quick shower, I was able to get dressed, brush my teeth and eat breakfast all in a maximum of ten minutes. I was proud of my sluggish self; that had to be a new record for me.

One foot was halfway out the front door when the phone rang shrilly throughout the house. Checking my watch, I knew I had to make it quick or else I'd be late for work.

"Hello?" I breathed out in a rushed tone when I reached the receiver.

"Hey," a familiar voice greeted. "I'm glad I caught you before you left for work. Almost thought I'd missed you."

"Oh, hey, Lilli," I grinned, glad to hear her voice. "Guess what? Only two more months till you'll be back! I can't wait."

"Me neither!" She said. "Japan is fun, but I miss you bunches."

Her lightheartedness brightened this dreary day. "So how is it in Japan?"

"Oh, my God," she exclaimed. "So great, but I think I've eaten too much sushi – I'm scared my stomach might explode."

I sighed heavily. "Try to stay in one piece, would you?"

"So how is it in Forks?" She asked. "Anything climatic?"

"Same old, same old," I waved my hand carelessly. "You know, it rains, it gets dark, and then it rains again. Nothing new."

"I could've guessed that," She paused for a moment. "Well, I gotta go have dinner. It's almost eight o'clock."

"I gotta go to my morning shift," I nodded. "It's almost seven."

"See you in a bit, Scarlett. Only two months to go!"

"Bye," I simpered. I'd known Lilli since the age of five and I loved her like a sister, so missing her terribly was practically inevitable.

"I'll talk to you later," She promised before hanging up.

After placing the telephone back in its dock, I made my way outside into the downpour. By the time I reached my 1953 Chevrolet pickup truck, I was entirely drenched.

I threw my bag into the cab of the car and hopped in, the vehicle loudly roaring to life as soon as I put my key in the ignition.

The roads were slick, most likely from an ice storm that possibly passed through last night, but I was able to manage without killing myself or anyone else. One of the perks to having an old senior citizen for a car was that, if I were ever in an accident, this monster would destroy whatever collided with it; damage to this thing would probably be some rusted red paint getting chipped off. Otherwise, my truck was a fiend on the road, strong enough to protect the weakling that maneuvered it.

Upon arriving at Forks Hospital, I was surprised to find two cop cars haphazardly parked out front. Their engines were ticking rhythmically, indicating that they'd been parked there only moments ago.

I zipped up my coat and grabbed my knapsack, ignoring them completely as I bee-lined my way to the front door, dodging the bullet-like raindrops.

"Hi, Scarlett!" the front desk receptionist, Krista, greeted me as I entered.

Her dark olive skin was illuminated by the florescent lights overhead, making her look ominously beautiful. She had to be about 35 now; Krista was already settled in the nearby town of Port Angeles – probably about an hour away from here – but her life presided in Forks, without a doubt. She worked here, at the hospital, seven days a week for about fifteen hours a day; her husband worked at the diner down the street, the only place where he was able to showcase his culinary capabilities; and her two children, Gemma and Asher, went to Forks High School not far from here.

She'd become a great colleague over the months – her company was much appreciated in Lilli's absence.

"Hey, Krista," I acknowledged her, heading for the elevator.

"Is Lilli back yet?" She wondered, flipping through some files that were sprawled out in front of her.

"No," I sighed. "But she should be back in about two months or so."

"We should have a little party for her," Krista decided.

I exhaled. If there was one thing Krista was good at, it was social gatherings. "Oh, Dr. Cooper got a promotion? We should have a party!" and "Oh, your dog died? We should have a burial ceremony" and "Oh, it's your birthday? I'll call everyone I know!" It was sweet of her, of course, but I was somehow always dragged into these things.

If there was one thing I was good at, it was embarrassing myself. And parties were the perfect place to trip down some stairs, or accidently spill soda all over our building's head surgeon, or … well, you get the idea.

"Um, I bet she would love that," I nodded, agreeing reluctantly.

Krista shook her head, laughing, "We don't have to have a party if you don't want to. Besides, last time was pretty funny."

The last celebration Krista prepared was an utter disaster. One of the doctor's at the hospital got a better paying offer in Michigan and Krista decided that a going away party was to be arranged for her. I'd been asked to light the candles on the cake – for a normal person this would be a simple request, but not for me. If the doctor's husband had not been a firefighter, I bet I would've been a murderer, killing off twenty people, two dogs, and an exquisitely made cake.

But I'd always been one to kill a party – that just happened to be the first time 'killing a party' was taken literally on my part.

"Thanks for reminding me," I simpered.

I stepped onto the elevator, ordering it to take me to the highest floor of the hospital. As the doors skidded closed, Krista was still giggling at the recollection of an enormous cake on fire.

When the bell chimed, signaling I'd reached the 2nd floor, the door slid open.

And standing there at the front were four cops, all in full fledged armor, leaning against the front desk. I was trying my best to slip by them discretely, but one grabbed my arm and shook his head.

"May I talk to you for a minute, miss?" he asked.

I became instantly nervous. "Sure. Did I do something wrong?"

"No," He clarified, clearly amused by the fact that I would consider such a thing. I was instantly relieved. "I just have a couple of questions for you, that's all."

I shrugged. "Alright."

"Have you been in the woods recently?" He inquired randomly.

"Um, no," I placed my bag on the front desk counter, watching the cop as he messily scribbled down my answer onto a notepad. "May I ask why you're wondering, officer?"

"There have been some animal attacks recently," He responded gruffly. "But we'll only see it as a threat when casualties start occurring."

I winced at the sound of death.

"So, if you please, ma'am," he cautioned. "We're warning everyone to stay out of the forests … just for safety precautions."

"Sure thing," I agreed, turning to sit at my desk.

The cop loosened up then, becoming less formal. "I'm Nathaniel Redborn. I live down on the Quileute Reservation in La Push. You know where that is?"

I examined this Nathaniel Redborn a little closer, noting for the first time how strikingly attractive he was. His russet colored skin was a huge contrast to the dull, white emergency room. His eyes were a profound shade of chocolate – it was incredibly easy to get lost in them. I assumed he was about my age, if not a little bit younger.

"Yeah," I answered, shaking the hand he'd extended out to me. "I go down there from time to time. It's a good place to think. But I don't think I've ever seen you out there."

"I was born there," He explained. Some of the other cops eyed him suspiciously, as if to reprimand the new guy for releasing so much personal information; I don't think he noticed them, though. "At the age of eighteen, I left, kinda bored with the place."

I smiled understandingly.

"I came back a couple weeks ago, wanting to start fresh," he admitted. "So I got a job as an officer up here in Forks."

"Hmm," I nodded, waving to head surgeon, Dr. Cooper, as he walked by.

"You're Scarlett, right? A lot of the guys down on the Rez talk about you," He grinned widely, leaning against the counter suavely.

"Really?" I tried acting uninterested, but I was honestly intrigued. They talk about me? What do they say? Who exactly is talking about me?

"You're quite the theme," He chuckled. "So, are you a doctor?"

"No, I just work here at the front desk," I corrected. Then I added confidently, "Actually, I'm an author. I just work at the hospital for some extra cash, you know?"

"An author?" He laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Now that I look at you," He appraised. "You do seem like the bookworm type."

"Well," I bragged. "This bookworm is making half a million just by typing up a hundred thousand words and calling it a novel."

His eyes widened. "Impressive."

I grinned with poise, indefinitely proud of myself.

"So what kind of stuff do you write about?" He asked curiously, tracing the outline of the linoleum countertop.

"What do you mean?" I glimpsed at him, detecting a joking disposition.

"Like what genre do you focus on?" He questioned. "Thriller, fantasy horror?"

"Uh …" I paused to think it over. _If It Kills Me_ had been labeled as a …

"Romance?" He plugged in for me.

"Uh, yeah," I decided, rambling on unnecessarily. "Romance, I guess. Some people have said I can write a mean suspense novel, though. So, I suppose, it's like a … ro-spence."

He laughed unreservedly. Then critiqued, "But romances are so mushy and suspense is so exciting. How do you combine the two?"

"Easy," I replied. "A bunch of authors do it."

"But how do _you_ combine the two?" he questioned, adjusting the badge pinned to his chest.

"It's simple really," I responded. "Two people fall madly in love and then something tragic happens. Like one dies or …"

"That's awful," He frowned. "That would be classified as a horror."

My eyebrow rose. "And what is your reasoning for such an assessment?"

He shrugged. "I've been in love before … and she died in a car accident. It was a really tough time for me."

"Oh," My face fell. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to be," he looked away from me. "That was awhile ago. Believe me, I'm over it."

I sat down at my desk, instantly feeling guilty for forcing him to reminisce in this topic – it was obviously difficult for him; I could tell just by looking at his face.

"Have you ever been in love?" He asked, that lighthearted mockery returning to his expression.

"I've had some boyfriends here and there," I told him. "One even proposed to me, but I'm just not ready for such a colossal commitment yet. Ergo, I just haven't come across the right guy."

He nodded, glancing over at the other policemen. One eyed him, signaling that it was time to go.

Nathaniel grinned, "Well, I'll see you later, okay? It was great meeting you."

"See you later," I smiled as he waved one last time before following the other cops down the stairwell.

I discarded his attempts at affection. I hadn't dated in the longest time. I broke up with my last boyfriend almost a year ago, right before I'd moved to Forks.

I found dating redundant.

Living with Lilli made it difficult anyways; privacy was rare and I've yet to meet a guy who won't mind if my best friend lived with us. Consequently, you would think that with Lilli gone for a whole ten months, I would try to get a boyfriend as soon as possible. There were always acceptable alternatives, though – I could get a dog …

Or I could wallow.

Like I said before, living alone wasn't a problem for me. The quiet could allow me to type away, raking in the money like leaves off the trees in autumn. But sometimes, one could feel so lonely that the world seemed utterly empty, as if you were the only on left on the planet and no one was there to spend your isolation with you – but this lonesomeness had become routine, my basic way of survival. I never rejected company, though. I could see the mailman and get inanely overexcited.

"Scarlett," someone's voice broke through my reverie.

I looked up to see Dr. Cooper approaching me. His expression was lilting, most likely whiplash after long hours of working. He'd always been tall and debonair, ultimately good-looking – with his dark hair gelled to a point and a faultless complexion, not to mention an impeccable sense of humor; it wouldn't be astonishing if one found themselves trying to impress him. However, it felt as though I'd known Dr. Cooper forever; we'd grown a tight knit amity over the course of my few months here.

"Hey, Coop," I greeted, looking up at him as he placed a document on the counter.

His mouth curved up into a tired grin. "Do you even know my first name?"

"I can't recall," I rolled my eyes theatrically, making him laugh.

As quickly as his smile had appeared, it vanished into a broken idiom. "We lost another one. Fritz is dealing with the body."

I bit my lip. "Was it Mrs. Walker? She was looking a little frail."

"Worse," He shook his head, as if he didn't want to believe what he was saying. "It was a teenager fooling around on First Beach, down on that reserve in La Push Ocean Park."

"What happened?" I questioned.

In turn, he twisted the paper around and pushed it towards me.

I read the first line and then glimpsed up at him. "Animal attack?"

"Yep," He nodded. "Did you see the police here a couple minutes ago?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "They were saying that if casualties started to take affect, they'd have to start taking action."

Coop seemed distant in thought, not responding.

"Do they know about this?" I gestured towards the paper.

"I was able to talk to one of them about it," He answered. "But they got an urgent call and had to leave immediately. At least they know about it and will be able to take care of it."

"What kind of animal, do you suppose?" I wondered.

"I'm a doctor," He frowned. "Not a zoologist."

I glanced down at the paper again. "Where do you want me to file this?"

He took a moment before answering. "Put that under Reference. I might want to look back on it."

I followed his instructions, filing it away in the cabinet under my desk.

"Hey, you think you could go back there and turn off the heart monitor?" he asked. "I have to go make a quick phone call."

It was moments like these where I hated my job. "Sure."

And without another word, Coop flipped out his cellphone and headed for the stairwell.

My feet seemed stuck to the ground, not wanting to move; my brain iced over at the thought of seeing a lifeless body, lying there helplessly. The fact that it was a teenager made it ten times worse; when you're young, and your life is so violently striped away from you, death seems even more unforgiving.

I walked hesitantly down the hall, turning into the fifth door on the left.

All the lights were off, so it was hard to see anything. The blinds were closed, separating the corpse from the rest of the living.

Reaching up and flicking on the light, I saw the outline of a body lying in the hospital bed. The whole carcass was covered by a thin white sheet, making it look like a badly dressed ghost. A constant beep hummed from the heart monitor – it sounded deafening, but I knew that it was just me becoming lightheaded.

I headed over to the monitor, watching the straight emerald line continually cross the screen. Unable to watch that symbol of fatality any longer, I placed my finger on the side, flipping the knob to the right.

The beeping died away eventually leaving me alone in the stillness.

* * *

><p>My shift ended around 7:00 PM that night.<p>

As I headed for the elevator, I had to admit I was pleased to be rid of the hospital at least until tomorrow.

So my normal day continued as I exited the front door of the infirmary – after waving farewell to Krista. The rain had continued to pour fatally down from the heavens, practically drowning me as I sprinted to my truck. Once in the safe, dry cabin of my pickup, I exhaled.

I'd survived yet another day in this sodden wasteland.

By the time I reached my driveway around 7:05, I was starving and raring for dinner. I had never been a creative or exceptional chef, not even your average cook, for that matter. All my homemade meals imploded into mush, so I had to survive basically on my microwave – a device I was overly grateful for.

As I unwrapped my microwavable Campbell's chicken noodle soup from the night before and placed it on the counter, I turned to my iPod dock, flipping on the power button. The empty house was instantly filled with a soothing background: Clair de Lune by Debussy. I wasn't a total freak about it, but I enjoyed my fair share of classical music as much as if not more than the next person. I even played amateur piano in my childhood through teenage years – but after moving out of my parent's house, the only instrument I had taken with me was my guitar; which currently sat, collecting dust, in the corner of the utility closet upstairs. Perhaps if I bought a piano I would be able to get back into it, but there was never enough time in the day – I was too busy doing nothing.

I hummed along as the piece drifted into major key and then back to minor again. As the song sifted to a gentle close, the phone shrieked, startling me out of my skin. I'd expected it to be Lilli, since she typically called more than once a day – just so it was impossible for her to miss anything vital.

"Hello?" I muttered into the phone distractedly, my finger gliding over the volume dial to turn down the next song on my iPod.

"Scarlett?" A voice replied, a tint of relief in their tone.

"Who is this?" I wondered, licking the remains of the broth from my fingers before jabbing the numbers on the microwave with my thumb.

"It's Nathaniel," said a voice. "We met today at the hospital."

"Oh, I remember," I clarified, leaning against the countertop. "How'd you get my number?"

"Oh," he grew noticeably apprehensive. "I went through your records and found your number. I hope that's okay."

"Of course it's okay," I shook my head, sarcasm boiling in my throat.

"So," he stumbled over his words nervously. "I was wondering—I know that this is really sudden considering we just met today—but maybe you'd like to come down to the Rez tomorrow. We could go surfing."

I didn't respond.

After a long while he asked, "You still there?"

"Uh, yeah," I blinked, bringing myself out that random haze. "I don't surf."

"There's always the chance to learn," He accepted.

I bent over, staring at my empty calendar. "Hmm, Friday is pretty booked. I don't know if I …"

"Please?" He interrupted.

"Okay, Nathaniel, look," I sighed. "I don't want to get into a relationship, if that's what you're expecting. Sorry."

He exhaled. "I'm not expecting that. I just want to be friends."

"Well," I looked out the window at the downpour. "I guess, I could come down. I haven't been out of the house for awhile, and I'm sure that's unhealthy."

Nathaniel laughed. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes," I nodded, popping open the microwave door after the first beep.

"Great!" He exclaimed. "See you tomorrow … let's say, one o'clock?"

"Cool," I pulled out my soup, placing it on the concrete countertop. "I'll see you then."

"Later," He said, obviously pleased, before hanging up.

I picked up a spoon, not letting any of my emotions overtake me on this beautifully wet evening in Forks. Dipping my spoon into my soup and stirring it consistently, I headed into the living room, turned on the DVD player, and planted myself onto the couch.

I thoroughly watched the third _Twilight_ installment, _Eclipse_. By the time it ended, around 10:30, I was dead tired; I shuffled back into the kitchen, threw my bowl carelessly into the sink and I was up the stairs in no time.

Falling asleep wasn't difficult, despite the pounding rain overhead. I drifted into a comatose slumber instantaneously.

And then I dreamt.

It was a strange dream that was for sure – but a dream nonetheless. I had a dream … that I was awake. I was lying restlessly in my bed, amongst the darkness of my bedroom, unable to remain comfortable or still. Finally, I rolled over onto my side, forcing my eyes shut. At first, I believed that this was no dream at all; I believed that it was completely real.

Unexpectedly, however, I felt an arm wrap around my waist gently, rubbing my thigh sweetly. The bed lowered, indicating that someone had lain down beside me. I could feel their breath in my ear and their grasp around me. I longed to turn and see who this stranger was, but they soothed me until the darkness crept over me and I drifted to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

When I awoke that next morning, I was alone.

My eyesight was hazy, making it difficult for me to see, but when my surroundings finally came into focus, I gasped. Glancing down at the clock, I realized my alarm had been switched off – which I didn't recall doing; I had five minutes to take a shower, get dressed, and be sitting at the front desk, promptly waiting for Coop to give me another form to file away.

I rushed to the bathroom hurriedly, noticing I was even more a mess than usual. The entire right side of my face was bright red, from sleeping on my pillow funny, I supposed. Whatever it was, I knew makeup wouldn't be powerful enough to cover it up.

I hopped into the shower and was out within a minute and a half, happy to see that the blemish was gone and my hair wasn't as tangled. I ran to my room, seeing I had two minutes to be through the hospital's front doors. After changing with great haste, I headed for the stairs, pausing at the top.

Music gently wafted from the downstairs.

Had I left the radio on … all night? _What a waste of electricity,_ I thought to myself as I dashed down the steps. I flung around the banister when I reached the bottom, knowing that I had to literally materialize to the hospital in order to make it there in time. When I turned to face the kitchen, though, I froze.

There in my kitchen … was a person.

Their back was turned to me, as they skillfully fried two eggs in a pan. I could tell it was a male by their broad, sculpted shoulders. He wore a grey hoodie that clung to his muscular body beautifully, along with ratted black jeans. At first guess, I would've thought it was Nathaniel; however, I knew it couldn't be, considering their hair was a striking dirty blonde. I also caught a glimpse of his arms, which were so white I almost mistook them for sleeves – shockingly enough, this person still was not paler than me.

"Uh," I stuttered confusedly. "W-who are you?"

He solidified, clearing his throat before responding deeply, "Guess."

"Um," I paused, examining his backside again. No specific person came to mind, and I'd discarded multiple faces from my memory after coming to Forks, figuring I'd never have to think about them again. "I give up."

The person startled me by laughing.

"What?" I wondered, glancing outside to see a stylish, expensive Mercedes in the driveway. Who was this guy?

He turned around to show me his face.

It truly was beautiful; his eyes were an electric blue, seemingly piercing through my soul. His mouth was curved into a smirk, yet there was some hint of remorse behind his smile. As for his face, he had chiseled cheek bones and a perfectly angled jaw bone – altogether, the face of a stone carving, virtually flawless. He stuffed his hands into his pockets nervously, trying not to laugh.

"Can you guess now?" His voice wasn't as deep as it was before.

I stood there, staring at him absentmindedly, but I still couldn't identify him. "Sorry. I don't know."

He laughed again. "God, Scarlett. You're not as intuitive as I remember."

I bit my lip nervously. Why could I not recognize this person? Something about him – his voice, his eyes, his body – seemed familiar. I rarely dwelled on things like faces, especially if it was someone I hadn't seen in a long time. So this was virtually impossible for me.

"It's me," he opened up his arms as if he were presenting something, that smirk a definite feature on his flawless face. "Mason."

"Mason …?" I remained clueless.

"… Ryder," He finished for me, flashing me a set of ultra white teeth.

I gasped. My memory was unable to run back that far – no one's memory should be able to. First time I laid eyes on Mason was in the second grade; the last time I saw him, we were walking off the stage at our high school graduation. Might I add that we had dated at least twice in between that period.

"Wow," I exhaled, utterly embarrassed.

I would've done so much if I knew he was coming; I would've painted over that hideous coffee stain upstairs in the hallway, I would've mopped the floors so this dump could look at least somewhat presentable, and I probably would've freshened myself up, without a doubt. However, I wouldn't do all these things because I still liked him – mainly because it was a competition to be better than him. By the looks of his clothes and his car, Mason was winning.

"It's been awhile, eh?" He laughed uncomfortably.

"Were you in my bed?" I blurted, my tone sharper than planned.

He stepped back, his joking expression vanishing into a frightened one. I could tell just by looking at his face that he was scared – it was rather hilarious actually. I would've laughed but all this irony had clogged up my throat.

"Uh, yes," He answered honestly, avoiding my eyes.

"So that wasn't a dream," I shook my head, mystified. I knew there had been a certain feel about it – a feel that was too blatant to be a product of my jumbled up thoughts.

"Uh, no," He glanced at the floor before looking back up at me.

I'd definitely missed him, but I'd never admit to it. It had taken some digging, but he had been stored in the back of my brain for the longest time; in grade school, I'd honestly had a sort of obsession with him. However, that had passed with the coming of eighth grade. By my freshman year of college, Mason had completely and almost permanently slipped my mind – it wasn't until now that all my memories of him resurrected.

So many questions popped into my head then; how had his life gone since I last seen him? He'd always been smart, a straight-A student. Obviously he was doing well in the money department; that car had to be at least a hundred thousand dollars. He had to have a girlfriend – unattractive wasn't a trait of his; it never had been. But then again, why would he be here if he had a girlfriend? Why would he come to me if his life had equaled up to be nothing short of perfect? More importantly, how did he know where to find me in the first place?

"How'd you know where I live?" I wondered.

He scratched the nape of his neck nervously. "Honestly?"

I nodded, watching as he squirmed under my gaze. Guilt began to blanket his teasing expression.

"I Zava-searched you," He admitted, waiting for my response.

Typically, I exploded. "Is everyone digging into my personal records these days? Are they just out there for the whole world to see? I should just make it easier for everyone and put a giant billboard up with my social security number on it!"

Unintentionally, an adorable confusion crossed his expression.

I simpered, acknowledging his perplexity. "I'm still weird. You must remember that quality of mine."

"Oh," He chuckled. "I remember that."

"Um, well," I played with my fingers tensely. "I see you've already started breakfast."

He turned and looked at the pan, remembering he'd left the flame on. "I hope you don't mind. They're a bit burnt."

"It's fine," I smiled. "Let me just make a phone call and then we can sit."

He began to slide the eggs onto two plates as I picked up the telephone.

I quickly dialed the hospital's main number, clearing my throat just before Krista picked up on the other line. "Hello. Forks Community Hospital. How may I help you?"

"Hey, Krista," I coughed, developing what I thought was a convincing fake cold. "I can't come in today. I feel awful."

"Hmm," Krista pondered. I had to remember she had two teenagers who probably faked sick all the time. "Did you take your temperature?"

"Yeah," I lied. "It was 102º. I don't think I should come in."

"If you're sure," Krista agreed; something in her tone, however, made me think she'd caught my lie. "When do you think you'll be back in?"

"Maybe two days from now," I allowed. "At most, three."

I glimpsed over at Mason, who had a wide smile on his face. He wasn't looking at me, but he was secretly containing a laugh – I could tell by the light in his eyes.

"Well, feel better," Krista finally accepted my lie.

"See you later," I pulled away from the receiver and finished it off with a slight sneeze, just to add to the effect.

"You get some sleep now," Krista ordered before hanging up.

As soon as I put the phone back in the dock, Mason guffawed, "Same old Scarlett. Why'd you take off three days? I only intend to stay today."

Honestly, I was happy he was staying, even if it was just for a couple hours; there was so much I wanted to talk to him about. "I need some days off."

"Where do you work?" he asked placing our meals on the dinky wooden kitchen table I'd gotten at a yard sale.

"Forks Hospital," I answered.

His eyebrow rose. "You're in the medical business?"

"No," I replied. "I'm just working there to keep the cash flow coming."

"Then what do you do?" He wondered as we both sat down, staring at me with deep, oceanic pools for eyes – I was swimming in them in no time.

I snapped out of my trance. "I'm an author."

He laughed. "I should've suspected nothing less."

Honestly, I wasn't that hungry, but I knew it'd be rude if I didn't eat what he made for me. I stabbed my fork into the eggs and stuffed it into my mouth. "Mmm. This is really good. I didn't know you were a cook."

Mason leaned back in his chair, appraisingly me carefully. His smile faded as he answered, "My wife taught me."

I gulped, accidently swallowing a forkful all in one massive bite. So he did have a wife; I bet she was beautiful, far better looking than me – blonde most likely, athletic. Everything that I wasn't.

"Y-you have a wife?" I stammered, trying not to make it obvious how painstakingly upset I was.

"Excuse me," He cleared his throat. "I meant to say _ex_-wife."

I didn't respond. I simply stared at him blankly.

"I guess I should explain all of this for it to make sense," he paused, glimpsing up at the ceiling before beginning. "After high school, I went to Harvard."

"No surprise," I shook my head.

"What?" He grinned, toying with his food but never eating it.

"Considering you're such a _genius_," I giggled, and he laughed along with me. His eyes seemed vivid, it was exuberating.

"As I was saying," He continued. "I went to Harvard, studying to become a doctor, and I met this girl there, Madison. She was great – smart, funny, sporty. Enough to keep me on my toes …."

I looked at him, watching as his facial expression lifted as he recollected the apparently joyful memories.

"We got married a month after graduation," He explained. "In my opinion, I could never be happier with another person in my entire life. To make it even better, we found out Madison was pregnant with a boy. Man, I was excited. I had everything planned – I would teach the kid to play baseball and he'd be the captain of his high school team, maybe even college. It was all perfect."

He sighed as his chuckle morphed into a frown.

"And then he came out," Mason shook his head, as if he didn't want to believe what he was saying. "With cerebral palsy."

I watched as he grew more and more disconsolate.

"It was a real blow to everybody," His eyes darted out the window, mainly to avoid eye contact, I assumed. "The doctor said he wouldn't live to be one …." his voice trailed off.

I thought about how egotistical I had been when Mason got here – how it was such a contest on whose life was better. It seemed like, in the luck category, I was in the lead … but I certainly didn't want to be. His life was unfortunate and horrible – so much pain and suffering had tainted what could've been the ideal life. It was obvious just by looking at his face how much pain this caused him.

And then he picked up again, "My son lived to be two. After that, everything just went downhill for Madison and me. We argued constantly, our marriage wasn't as fun as it used to be. She would come home drunk and I would be high all night. I used to put my cigarettes and joints under the cushions on the couch just to annoy her …"

I interrupted. "You smoke?"

"Not anymore," he assured me. "Then one night, she packed her bags and left the divorce papers on the bed without another word."

"That's terrible."

"One might think," He shrugged. "So after that I lived with my parents and worked at a hospital in downtown D.C. About two weeks ago, I got fired. I was unpacking some boxes, found our old eighth grade year book and flipped through it. Thought it'd be fun to see where everybody was now."

I nodded.

"To be honest," He admitted. "I skipped over you. But then I just couldn't take it anymore, and then when I saw when you were in a town I'd never heard of – I looked it up and it only has 3,000 people in it – so I just had to know what you were doing in the middle of nowhere. I thought you were like an undercover spy or something ridiculous like that."

"I like it here," I confessed.

"Why?" he criticized. "It's all rainy. I don't know how you can put up with all this bad weather."

"You get used to it after awhile. I can't imagine living anywhere else."

"So," He grinned, leaning back. "While were on the topic of what you're doing in this wilderness, how'd you get here? What'd you do after high school?"

"Hmm," I sighed, not really wanting to go over the topic of my life – it was too dreary. "Well, I went to Brigham Young, in Provo."

"Did you convert to Mormonism?" He wondered.

"I've been asked that a lot … but no," I answered, then continued, "I got a degree in literature. Then after that, I lived in New York for a week."

"A week?" he questioned condemningly.

"Taylor and Ashley live there … you remember them?"

"Uh-huh," He nodded. "I'm still vaguely in touch with Taylor."

"Well, I attempted a life in the 'city that never sleeps' with them," I explained. "But I'm not much of a city girl, so I moved to London …"

"London's a city," He commented.

"Yes, well, London is better merely because it's not America," In that one sentence, I sounded much older for my age.

He laughed wholeheartedly. "So you're _anti-American_?"

"For a brief period of time, I was, yes," I simpered. "But then Lilli told me to come back because she needed help with rent and whatnot. So I did, and Karolina came to live with us as well."

"I remember them," He snuck into my autobiography.

"So after about two years with them, I got an impeccable deal from Little, Brown," I smiled. "Who just so happened to offer me half a million for every book I spit out."

"What!" he leaned forward, his tone questioning my sanity. "You must be raking in cash like there's no tomorrow!"

"Not necessarily," I responded. "You see by book, I mean novel. And by novel, I mean typing up a 500 page word document. This isn't your average English paper, my friend. You try typing a group of words that long and see if they all make sense in the end."

"It doesn't seem that hard."

"Then maybe you should give it a try and send me a copy of the finished piece when you're done with it in ten years," I joked.

He stopped to laugh, finally taking a bite of his delicious creation. By the look on his face, he didn't like the taste – he swallowed it reluctantly, after which he dropped his fork, surrendering. As he wiped his mouth with a napkin, I noticed something on his arm.

"What's that from?" I questioned.

"What's what from?" He dropped the napkin, glancing up at me.

"That scar on your arm," I wondered after swallowing another bite.

"Oh," He looked at it absentmindedly. "About three months after our divorce, Madison's Facebook relationship status went from single to engaged to married in about two weeks. So I texted her, asking if it was a joke. Just to tick me off, she sent me a picture of her and her new husband. I was so pissed, that I picked up my laptop and threw it at the window. So … yeah, a glass shard cut me."

"Oh," I mumbled incoherently. "I …." I began but then stopped.

"What's wrong?" He inquired, his mouth curving into a sneer.

"Nothing," I lied unconvincingly.

"Obviously it's something," He accused.

"It's stupid," I shook my head, tapping my fork against the plate impatiently as he eyed me. "You'll laugh at me."

He leaned forward, stopping about three inches from my face. I could feel his breath cleanse me – it was refreshing. With a seductively persuasive voice, he instructed, "Just tell me."

"Well …" I paused before continuing. "There's something kind of … sexy about that."

He laughed loudly, the noise echoing throughout the house. In that moment, the whole house seemed to shudder, probably from the wind – however, it sounded an awful lot to me as if the house had been so tired of seeing only my face everyday, only me being utterly lonely; the sound of another living human being was exhilarating to this abode, and it was equally as thrilling for me.

"Sorry," He chuckled. "That was out of line. I shouldn't have laughed."

I was breathless – unable to respond articulately.

"I just didn't know getting cut by glass was sexy," He snickered quietly.

"To a normal person who lives a normal life, it's pretty normal," I clarified matter-of-factly. "But I've been lonely for a very long time."

"Well, that's poignant," He responded. "What do you do all day? Mope?"

"Actually, yes," I answered, frowning – I was reasonably ashamed as I admitted this. "I spend a lot of my time crying."

"You've always been a crier," He recalled. "I liked that, though."

I blushed excessively, picking up my legs and wrapping my arms around them protectively.

"What do you cry about?" He wondered.

"Oh, stupid things," I answered, staring up at the ceiling before looking back at his face. "I cried when Lilli left – she lives with me, but she had to be in Japan for her job the past several months. I cried when I watched _Breaking_ _Dawn_, and still to this day, I cry when I watch any _Twilight_ movie, even if it's slight. I cried when I was sick. Sometimes I sit down on the couch and just cry randomly. The most recent was about a week ago, at Thanksgiving, when I cut myself while slicing the turkey."

He wondered randomly, "Did you spend your Thanksgiving alone?"

"No," I glimpsed at him questioningly. "I spent it with a friend from work and her family."

"Will you spend Christmas with them?"

"Probably not," I replied. "Christmas is a family holiday, a holiday you spend with the people you love … I would never burst in and ruin something like that."

He nodded.

"Besides," I continued. "I'm not that much fun anyways. I've never made great company for someone."

"That's a lie," He blurted.

For a long moment, there was silence between us. The only sound was my iPod dock – which we hadn't turned off or turned down. A soft song was filling the background, acoustic guitar ironically matching this empathetic mood. Mason's face was charmingly serene; I didn't know what face I was making, but it was almost certainly not as hypnotizing as his was.

"So, Lilli lives with you?" he broke the silence.

"Yes," I answered – my voice a little shaky. "A couple months ago, she got an anime job in Japan. She should be back in about two months, and then she can work from home."

"I haven't seen any of my grade school friends in the longest time," He stated. "It's kind of funny how you remained in such close contact with yours."

"Funny," I repeated quietly to myself.

Mason looked out the window then, watching the individual droplets of rain hit the glass. He briefly studied the setting, glancing from the woods on the right to several houses on the left. My neighbors' houses were drastically different than mine – older. I'd hired a contractor to build my house, but I'd designed it to look aged on purpose. The rest of the houses on my street had been built approximately in the seventies, but their exteriors were constantly being renovated, replacing the eroding siding with stronger material able to survive the weather.

I turned and examined my kitchen with approval. I liked the way I'd chosen to build it – the color, the cabinets, the floors especially. The whole house was neutral colors: a lot of blues, dark browns, and greens – as if there wasn't enough green outside already. My bedroom I appreciated the most, but I despised showing it to people; it just proved my overwhelming _Twilight_ obsession. I designed it to look identical to Bella Swan's in the movie, and I believed that it was a definite success.

Actually, the entire house's layout was identical to Bella's. But it wasn't my fault that the Swan household had little architectural taste. I'd wanted it to be authentic, making my place exactly indistinguishable to that in the movie; but, in spite of myself, I just couldn't stand the lack of matching colors and updated appliances. This proved my unparalleled desire for perfectionism.

"Sorry about this morning," Mason apologized out of the blue, snapping me from my reverie.

"You mean how you just randomly burst into my house?" I accused. "How did you get in anyway?"

"You left the front door unlocked," He said indifferently. I flushed a pinkish shade of scarlet. "And I am sorry for bursting in without warning. But I was referring to something else."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I turned off your alarm," he seemed distant, staring at something far away.

"Why?" I questioned. Why he was apologizing for this intrigued me; as did why he did it in the first place.

"I didn't want you to wake up," He frowned. "I didn't want you to leave because then I wouldn't be able to talk to you. But you stumped me."

"I stumped you?"

"You often do," He smiled amiably. "Apparently, you have a mental alarm clock in your brain."

I glanced out the window, grinning.

"So are you going to give me a tour or what?" He inquired, inadvertently leaning closer to me.

"Am I inclined to?" I smirked, standing.

He stood as well, promptly stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I suppose."

As we exited the kitchen and entered the main foyer, I smiled up at him, "I assumed you already explored."

"I'm not _that_ nosy," He chuckled.

"Well," I shrugged, leading him into the living room. I pulled my sleeves over my fists restlessly, watching his observing gaze. "This is the living room."

He eyed the room carefully, examining everything from the small hand-me-down couch to the elderly TV I'd carried on with me from my college dormitory.

After a long while, he stated, "It suits you."

I exhaled nervously, my eyes remaining on him. He proved successful when it came to hiding his emotions and he always had been. He appeared to be paying attention at first glance, but there were always core feelings underneath, under the surface. I hadn't known this forever, though; it'd taken me years to figure out what was going on in that brain of his – I was pretty clueless as it was, still.

"What's out there?" He wondered, gesturing towards the door on the far end of the living room.

"That's the porch."

"Do you ever use it?" He chuckled silently. "Aren't porches meant for enjoying the outdoors. What's enjoyable about the outdoors here?"

"I use it sometimes," I glimpsed up at him, walking towards the door. "But you might want to bundle up first."

"I'll be fine," he headed back to the foyer, grabbing his coat and returning. He placed it around my shoulders courteously.

"Thank you," I mumbled timidly, wrapping it tightly across my shoulders.

"You're welcome," He opened the door for me, letting me exit out first.

The wintriness caught me immediately, chilling me to the bone. Mason must have been freezing, but he didn't show it. He stared blankly out to the forest's edge, beyond that point was indecipherable.

"This place …" he paused to think of the proper word. "There's something … kind of nice about it."

"It is beautiful," I agreed. "When I first moved here, I went into the woods. And when I got high enough up," I exhaled. "It was incredible. You should've seen the sun peeking through the cloudbank. And the dew covered the tree trunks and ground."

He nodded.

"It's very mystifying here," I finished.

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw him sneak a peek at me right before he replied, "Yes, it is extremely mystifying here."

We were silent for a moment.

The pounding rain seemed almost musical today, as if the entire world was at a certain peace. The trees swayed as if they were dancing to the downpour as the wind _whoosh_ed by, echoing in my ears.

"You look freezing," he commented.

Now that he mentioned it, I did feel a bit frostbitten. "I'm fine," I lied.

He ignored me. "C'mon. Before you get sick."

Mason guided me back into the house, refusing his jacket when I tried to return it to him – "Keep it on for awhile," he'd said. I didn't object; I was too addicted to the smell to protest. I couldn't describe the scent. It smelled like a memory that I had forgotten, potent but subdued and soft by now. Perhaps that was all Mason was to me. A memory.

"There's the dining room," I commented as we passed by it on our way back to the foyer.

He followed me back up the stairs, almost silently. I had to check behind me to see if he was still there, and he was, smiling beautifully back up at me. When we reached the second floor, I ignored the closed door on the left, not wanting to show it to him.

That was the only room in the house that had any sign of _Twilight_ in it, and it was the only room that was going to – it was the only room that Lilli and I had allowed. She and I had agreed that we were adults now, and we shouldn't have signs of our younger days in the house since we needed to be completely mature. So we assigned that room to be the room of outcast childhood memories; naturally, it was crowded with _Twilight_ memorabilia.

He must've understood that I didn't want to reveal the room, so he didn't mention it as we passed by.

I lifted my hand and tapped another closed door with my knuckle. "This is Lilli's room. I don't go in there, and I won't until she's back."

Mason nodded thoughtfully.

"Here's the bathroom," I continued down the hall as he followed.

As I reached for the handle of my bedroom door, Mason assessed, "I'm guessing this is your bedroom?"

"You guessed right," I nodded, opening the door embarrassedly.

"I hope you don't mind," He said as we entered, analyzing the room carefully. "I explored this room a bit while you were asleep."

"Did you sleep at all last night?" I wondered.

He shrugged. "Jetlag."

"Sorry, it's a mess," I apologized.

He looked around the room, as did I. The walls were light and green. I had a desk up against one wall and the bed on the opposite; in the corner sat a rickety old rocking chair, which I sat in to read from time to time. Beside the rocking chair was a massive bookshelf, filled with binders and copies of all my published and non-published junk. In one glance at the cluttered bookshelf, I could definitely say I was proud of myself – I'd wasted countless hours of my life compiling all of these together, and I guess the bookshelf stood as a trophy in itself.

"It looks different in the daylight," Mason interceded between thoughts. "It seemed a bit less … gloomy last night."

"It's hard to remember where I am at night, except for the rain," I said. "Lack of moonlight makes my house feel completely isolated, as if it's the middle of a black emptiness."

"That doesn't make you feel disconnected?" He wondered.

"No," I replied. "It inspires the creative juices that keep an author fluid. If I were to write about feeling inaccessible, I should feel it firsthand, you know?"

He muttered silently to himself, "Unbelievable."

I stepped back, appraising this picture carefully. My room seemed drabby compared to him; his expensive clothes, his poster-child physique – he seemed so out of place in the norm of my bedroom. To see something so beautiful standing among something so normal, it felt unnatural.

"Scarlett," He called for my attention.

I hadn't noticed he'd been looking at me – I'd been too busy looking at him.

"I have a question for you," He grinned, stepping closer. I said nothing, so he assumed he could continue, "I was wondering if I could stay a bit longer …?"

I nodded. "You just got here. There's no point in taking a plane back immediately …"

"Not because I have to leave," he sighed. "Because I don't _want_ to."

I went blank. "You don't want to leave?"

"No," He responded, a memorable smile flickering onto his face.

He reached forward, and I didn't pull away. His hand gently caressed my cheek before he softly pulled me into a kiss. His lips tasted sweet, like sugar. He was reserved at first, but after a few seconds he became more passionate, wrapping his arms protectively around my waist. I placed my hand on the nape of his neck, feeling instantly intoxicated and needing to hold onto him to remain stable. He briefly pulled away, resting his forehead against mine. Exhaling, that beautiful smirk crossed his alluring expression.

"I don't want you to leave either," I breathed.


	3. Chapter 3

_**I realize the last chapter was vague, but things will be explained further on. And, if you're looking to read something realistic, I've proven that practicality is not my forte in only the second chapter. **_

The downpour worsened after a couple hours as the skies faded from__a lackluster gray to an ominous black. Mason remained into the late hours of the night, never leaving and repetitively insisting that he wasn't going to.

I suppose I should've expected something along these lines to unfold from his visit. And, I think, the one thing that allowed me to fall so readily in love with him was that I had already fallen in love with him before. Besides, I could tell that he had not come to Forks expecting something like this.

I learned more about him with the passing time. It was obvious that he felt a deep despair for his flighty ex-wife and his deceased baby boy, and it showed; no matter how much joy he displayed on the outside, no matter how much happiness being with me actually caused him, the apparent sorrow never left his expression. Ever.

I wondered that maybe, if he stayed, I could erase that regret and replace it with bliss.

That next morning began somewhat like the first. I awoke in bed alone with no sign of any life besides my own. I hesitantly shuffled down the steps, rubbing my eyes exhaustedly. I entered the kitchen, my iPod trickling softly in the background as Mason peacefully made breakfast for us.

"Good morning," I said, reaching out and placing my hand on his shoulder.

"Sleep well?" He asked thoughtfully, flipping a pancake with the spatula.

"Sure," I allowed, walking over to sit at the table, watching him intently. It was great having an apposite cook in the house now; if I had based my survival on microwaveable meals much longer, it probably would become fatal.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for work?" he wondered.

"No," I answered. "I'm sick, remember?"

"Oh, that's right," He chuckled, sliding the pancake onto a plate. "In that case, I have a bunch planned for today."

"Like what?" I asked, examining him carefully. He seemed happier today, but yet some aspect of his disposition seemed a bit exhausted.

"Well, I hope you don't mind," He grinned. "But I explored your garage."

"I thought you said you weren't nosy?" I accused, raising an eyebrow playfully.

His smile widened. "I was looking for the bathroom and just so happened to stumble upon it," he explained, shrugging. "By the way, that is one monster of a truck."

"Isn't she a beauty?" I teased.

"More like the Beast," He chuckled, setting a plate in front of me and taking his place beside me. "Where'd you get it?"

"It took some digging," I answered. "In the end, I got it from some old guy in Colorado who was looking to get rid of it."

He nodded. "It sure is a monster."

"Well, it runs great, that's for sure," I felt like we were criticizing my truck too much; the least I could do is compliment it for its dependability. "Good at protecting a fragile little thing like me."

"You're right," He agreed. "That's one hell of an engine. A bit of tweaking and it'll run like a fiend."

"It already does," I shook my head. "Are you implying my car needs _work_?"

"That's exactly what I'm implying, actually," Mason grinned. "I'd be able to fix it up if you'd like …"

I interrupted, "No, I would not like that at all. My truck is perfectly capable of surviving on the road as well as your car is."

He laughed incredulously. "Have you seen your car? Let's compare it to mine, shall we?"

"No, we shall not," I frowned. "I know your car is newer and sleeker than mine, but yours is not an eternal classic."

He shrugged, mumbling to himself, "It might be someday."

"Well," I stared at him with beady eyes. "You are not putting a finger on my car. It runs great, and there is no need to do anything to it."

He evaded my eyes. "Oops."

"What did you do?" My eyes flashed to his.

"I thought I was being helpful," He developed the most adorable, persuasive smile ever curved in existence. I think Juliet would've ditched Romeo and fallen to her knees at Mason's command instantly if he charmed her with a smile such as that.

I was too stunned by his beauty to think or speak. Or, for that matter, breathe.

"Don't worry," He exhaled. "You won't even notice a difference, just maybe that it runs quieter."

"Alright," I agreed, standing, wobbling a bit. "Let's take a look at your handiwork, Mr. Ryder."

He grabbed me by the waist. "You look high."

"It's you," I clarified. "You intoxicate me persistently."

We headed for the garage, Mason assisting me cautiously. I was honestly afraid. What if the changes weren't simply to the engine? What if he'd done some cosmetic changes as well? I'd hate to disappoint him, but I would be positively upset if he changed any of those sorts of things. I wondered if he knew the only reason I'd bought this vehicle and wanted it in the first place was because it was identical to Bella Swan's.

Oh, well, he'd find out soon enough.

Mason pushed open the garage door, revealing his work to me. Nothing looked different; the truck sat in the center of my average-looking garage, exactly where I'd left it when I parked it the other night.

My garage was small, about the size of the kitchen if not smaller. The walls and floor were prosaic gray concrete, nothing unique or special. I had a few Craftsman tools that my father had given to me, just in case I had need of them for any do-it-yourself jobs. Ever since I moved to Forks, though, those tools had been left collecting dust, untouched.

"Mason," I stood idly in the doorway as he slipped past me towards the truck. "Nothing looks any different."

"You have to turn it on, silly," He chuckled, reaching out and pulling me down to the driver's side door.

He clicked the door handle and opened the door … and I sighed with relief. The interior was exactly the same: same off-white upholstery, same peppermint scent. If the engine was the only thing he'd changed, I didn't mind it.

"Turn it on," He smiled, walking around to the hood.

I reached forward, seeing that the keys were already in the ignition – had I left them there or did he find them? – and twisted the key. The engine boomed at top volume at first, but then lingered a bit lower, the rain powerful enough to envelop the noise and declare it practically inaudible. I knew without the rain it would still be a bit thunderous, but rarely was Forks without bad weather.

"How'd you do that?" I questioned, hopping out of the cab.

"Easy," He mumbled. "Anybody can do it."

"And, by anybody, you mean people who are mechanically gifted," I corrected, smiling.

"You're saying you're mechanically challenged?" he laughed.

"Indeed I am," I grinned as we headed back into the house.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Mason's face grew apprehensive as we entered the kitchen. "Someone called for you this morning."

"It was probably Lilli," I assumed.

"It was a _guy_," he corrected.

I turned on my heel slowly, my eyes widening.

"Do you know a Nathaniel Redborn?"

"Nathaniel?" Something in my tone hinted that I knew him personally, not that I had met him just the other morning. "Yeah. What'd he say?"

"Something about …" he paused to remember. "Missing Friday."

"Oh my god," I clapped my hand against my forehead. "I completely forgot about yesterday. He was probably waiting for me out in the rain and the cold and everything …" I rambled on mostly to myself.

"Who's Nathaniel?" Mason raised an eyebrow, his tone becoming rough.

"Are you becoming the clingy boyfriend?" I'd meant for the comment to be lighthearted but, instead, it sounded a bit sharp.

"Hmm," Mason looked out the window. "Have we established that I'm your boyfriend yet?"

"I'd assume you are," I glanced at the door and then away, refusing to picture Mason walking out of it for good. "Considering last night …"

Mason mumbled to himself, "Mmhmm."

"Mmhmm," I repeated to myself silently, watching as Mason contemplated to himself. His face tensed as he thought and then relaxed when he finally made a decision, but he stayed silent for a long time, prolonging the moment.

"Sure," he nodded at last. "I'd love to be your boyfriend."

My shoulders wilted, as if a huge burden was lifted from them. "Thanks."

"You're thanking me?" He seemed amused.

"You've saved me from self-inflicted boredom," I walked over to him and sat on his lap.

He didn't refuse me, but a blank expression remained on his face. "So, you still have to explain this to me. Who's Nathaniel?"

"Just a police officer I met while working down at the hospital the other day," I explained, examining him as he processed the thoughts. "He had invited me down to the beach to hang out, but I forgot."

"Hmm," Mason nodded, now reacting to me on his lap. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me as close to him as possible. "Why'd you forget?"

"I forgot because you distracted me," I mumbled. "Just like you are now."

"Do you want me to put you down?" He purred the words pleasurably, his voice flowing like rainwater.

"D-don't let go," I stuttered, mystified by him.

"I won't," He chuckled, a promising tint in his tone. "Now there are so many other things you must explain to me. I have plenty questions for you."

"Fire away," I got up off his lap and walked over to the refrigerator.

"Basic questions," He simplified. "First, what is your favorite color?"

I rolled my eyes, expecting something more significant. "Is that the best you can do?"

"A question is a question all the same," He traced his pinky finger along the crease in the table.

"Hmm," I pondered. "I'm not really sure. I guess, blue."

"You don't see blue that often, do you?" He peeked up at me blankly. "I mean, there is no ocean around here, no blue sky."

"There is an ocean about a half hour away from here," I informed him – his expression brightened. "First Beach, in La Push."

"That's where you were supposed to meet that boy," he guessed.

I nodded. "I feel so bad. It must've been freezing down there yesterday. Especially now, with it being almost December."

"The first of December is tomorrow." His voice was monotone.

"Hmm," I repeated, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a soda. "I would've gotten paid today … darn."

There was a moment of silence.

"I should go get my check," I hurried into the foyer, reaching for my jacket.

Mason was at my side in an instant, grabbing me. "You're sick, remember?"

"Oh, right," I recalled, shaking my head. "It's hard to remember when I feel absolutely perfect."

"Oh," He exhaled, wrapping me in his arms. "I wonder if you realize something …"

"What?" my eyes remained glued to his face.

"I need you," He paused shortly before continuing. "Much, much more than you need me."

"Doubtable," I glanced out the glass front door, watching the rain slam against the pavement vindictively.

His finger lifted my chin so our faces were mere centimeters apart. "You have no idea."

He leaned forward and placed his soft lips on mine, sending my heartbeat into a wild, uneven frenzy. He kept his hand under my chin, carefully holding me there as if I were made of glass and could shatter at any moment. Once our lips finally disconnected, that enchanting smile crossed his face again, making me blush.

"Next question," He sighed after awhile. "What's your hobby?"

"Writing," I answered him, my breathing still a bit scattered in aftershock. "But I can't. My computer's broken."

"Couldn't you handwrite it?" He didn't leave the foyer.

"I guess so. But I don't think I have the patience."

We sat together on the steps as he continued to bombard me with every question he could possibly come up with. He asked me about my favorite childhood memory, my favorite place to be – other than the Pacific Northwest – and why I wanted to be there. He asked about movies I'd seen, books I'd read, pets I'd owned (and unintentionally killed), favorite foods and favorite restaurants …. His mental list of questions seemed to scope farther than I ever thought possible.

In between his endless questions, he took a breath.

I took advantage of the pause. "Come with me," I took his hand and pulled him out the front door.

He swiftly grabbed my coat and mine as we stepped out the door. Instinctively, once we were down the steps, he retreated to his Mercedes but, without a word, I started walking in the opposite direction of civilization, towards the woods.

Mason followed without protesting, beside me in an instant. I reached out and held his hand, leading him towards the forest's edge. Once we were a few feet into the deep dark seclusion of the overgrowth, I exhaled.

This was one of my favorite parts about living in Forks. This foreign wasteland could be found in anyone's backyard, beckoning you out to get lost in. I rarely felt any sort of claustrophobia back here, although it did feel as if one were trapped in a gigantic green box. Ferns and greenery swooped down from every side, blanketing the floor like a foamy mattress. Vines and leaves hid the sky, a consuming canopy blocking out light. Few raindrops made their way to the forest floor because the canopy was too luscious and too uncontrollable to penetrate.

"Where exactly are we going?" He wondered.

"I don't know," I responded honestly.

"So you're getting us lost?" He glimpsed at me, playful accusation in his eyes.

"I'm trying to find something," I told him, carefully positioning my footing – one missed step could end up disastrous for my clumsy self. "Remember yesterday I told you I went up above the cloudbank and found a phenomenal spot?"

He nodded. "I also recall you saying that the last time you were there was not long after you moved here … that was almost a year ago."

"I'd like to think my memory is sound."

"So you remember a patch of dirt, but you didn't remember me?" He chuckled at the comparison, staring down at me skeptically.

"It's been awhile since I saw you last," I reminded him. "Besides, I doubted I'd ever see you again so don't blame me for discarding your face."

He said nothing, snickering to himself, sneaking glances at me every so often.

I searched my surroundings determinedly. "I think it's this way," I decided.

Pulling Mason alongside me, I tramped across the moist earth. I noticed Mason walked with an exceptionally low amount of effort or concentration. He kept his eyes on me or facing forward but never on the ground in front of him. It made me feel insignificant, far less skilled that he was.

"Are you sure you're not dragging us in circles?" He laughed.

"I see the sun through the canopy up ahead. We have to be getting higher."

Sure enough, about twenty yards in front of us, the cloudbank parted and the canopy's dense layer was broken. Sunlight was a beautiful image, an uncommon one in this dense forest. We eventually reached the top of the high hill after what must've been hours of hiking. We entered a treeless patch, the sun peaking through the leaves like a child trying to discover the unknowns of a candy store's interior through the store's window.

The sun soaked us, a reassuring and welcomed feeling. Mason seemed shocked that I was actually able to find the place, all within a reasonable amount of time; I was equally amazed that I hadn't gotten us hopelessly lost.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" I asked him.

He examined the dewy, wet grass, his eyes floating from the forest floor all the way up to the greenery above us. The sunlight was sparse, but yet still visible to a minimal extent. Sun seemed foreign to me after all these days in the dark. It was the heavy rainy season.

"Wow," He smiled. "Incredible."

"Like a little meadow," I mused.

The place instantly reminded me of the meadow in _Twilight_. Only this image was far from the one in the movie; the movie had petite little purple wildflowers, luscious grass, a single unnatural ray of sunlight, and most importantly, a sparkling perfect vampire. Here, the sunlight was barely peaking through the tiny holes that the canopy provided, the grass was dead from all of the weather's brutal abuse, and there was no vampire – however, Mason seemed close enough to Edward Cullen's immortal faultless image.

I watched Mason as he let go of my hand and idly stepped forward, head craned up, eyes analyzing everything around him. His hair was ruffled, the blondish-brown tints luminous in the minimal sunbeams. His whole physique seemed otherworldly, too immaculate for any one person to be gifted with. He seemed out of place in the dingy background – he belonged somewhere else, somewhere sunny, somewhere not Forks.

Somewhere not with me.

Back in our grade school and high school years, Mason could've been described as lanky with angled features. Even before, his eyes were just as piercing, a beautifully gorgeous shade of blue. But now, his figure seemed fuller, more muscular than it had been. Granted back then he was definitely stronger than many boys I knew, but now it was obvious – his features and structure was more defined. He used to wrestle, play baseball, and various other sports, so I'm sure all of that athleticism contributed to his stunning build.

"You didn't let me finish," He broke through my stare.

"Finish w-what?" I mumbled, having to concentrate on something else to get the words out coherently.

"My questions," He leaned against a tree. "I've yet to ask you everything I must know about you."

"How much do you want to know?" I asked warily.

"Oh, it could take days," he alleged, glancing up at the trees' roof and then back at me.

I sat down on the grass, keeping my eyes on him always. It could have been because I was afraid he would disappear, but it could have also been because I couldn't stop staring. "Well, then maybe you should get to it."

"Alright then," He paused. "Your romantic history. Tell me about that."

"I haven't had that many boyfriends," I said, somewhat embarrassed. "And none of them were very long-lasting."

He chuckled, which surprised me. "I find that hard to believe."

"And why is that?" I couldn't help but wonder.

Shrugging, he crossed his arms across his chest.

I didn't say anything for a long time, I just watched him.

"Next question," I prompted.

"Hmm," He took a deep breath, his eyes remaining locked on the grass beneath us as he concentrated. "How long do you intend to stay in Forks?"

"The rest of my life," I answered surely.

"Really?" He winced. "That's a long time." Mason seemed uncomfortable with my answer, as if it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

I stood and stepped toward him, approaching him slowly. He watched me carefully; with each inch that was chopped away between us, his smile widened.

"Why'd you ask that?" I wondered when I was only sheer inches from him. I had to crane my neck to look up at his face. He had to be at least a head taller than me, if not taller than that.

His response was hesitant. "I want to know as much about you as possible."

"That's the only reason?" I inquired, watching as he intertwined our hands together. As soon as his fingertips connected with mine, it was instant electricity.

"Well … no," He replied after awhile. "I …"

He paused to phrase the words perfectly.

"I have to keep track of you," Finally, he continued. "I've noticed," He paused again. "That, whether you realize it or not, where you are is where I need to be."

My mind mulled over the words briefly, even though I decided that I liked what I was hearing the moment the words left his lips.

He added, "But I'll leave if you don't want me, willingly. I just need something stable in my life for once …"

I didn't give him time to finish, mainly because it didn't take me that long to consider the thought. I lifted myself onto my tiptoes and leaned forward, placing my lips on his. I could feel his mouth curve up into a grin as he kissed me back. His hand became entangled in my hair as he pulled me up against him.

We stayed in the tiny meadow for hours, just talking and asking each other questions. I could've laid there forever with him, listening to him talk. I tried not to concentrate on one part of him too much; now and then he would catch me staring distantly into his eyes or at his lips. It was humiliating, and a sure sign that I was clearly obsessed with him.

He seemed overly interested with my life, which surprised me. I'd never considered myself very intriguing, but Mason apparently begged to differ.

Eventually, he noted, "It's getting dark out." He stood

My eyes retreated to the sky, noticing the sun had drifted away. "Oh."

He gripped my hand, helping me up, and we began to walk back in the direction we'd come. "You know what I decided?"

"Hmm?" I looked up at his darling face with admiration.

He spun me around so I was facing him, his smile growing fuller. Mason held me close as physically possible. I stared into his eyes lovingly, noting that the remorse had faded away a bit more.

"I …" He began, but then he stopped.

I was wondered why he didn't continue, and after a couple minutes, I raised an eyebrow. "Are you …?"

He interrupted, "Shh. Don't move." His voice was urgent.

His eyes were locked on something behind me. I attempted to turn and see what was so interesting, but Mason's arms were forcefully solid around me, making moving impossible.

"Get behind me," he instructed reluctantly, never letting go of my arm.

I obliged to Mason's request. As soon as I did so, though, my curiosity overtook me. My eyes peeked over the collar of Mason's jacket and I finally realized what was so imperative.

Standing in a guarded stance, feet away from where we stood, was a wolf. It was massive, frightening. I felt my toes grow numb and my heart ice over as the beast appraised us with ravenous eyes. Its fur was black and ratty, and its eyes were golden.

I could feel a scream itching to release itself in the back of my throat, but I pushed it down, knowing that with any sudden motion or sound, the wolf would pounce.

Mason carefully tested the animal, slowly stepping forward. In turn, a low snarl escaped from the wolf's mouth.

"When I say go," Mason mumbled under his breath, watching the wolf charily. "I want you to run."

"What about you?"

Mason said nothing; he simply reached back and grabbed my waist protectively. The wolf stepped towards us, eyeing us suspiciously. I gulped as the animal crouched down, ready to lunge for us.

"One," Mason muttered, barely audible. "Two."

The wolf growled, its stare turning into a fearsome glower. I began to whimper quietly to myself, realizing that at any moment the wolf could attack and kill us both with a whip of it's jagged nail or a gnaw of it's sharp teeth. The animal could smell my fear in the air, for it crouched even lower and bared its teeth.

Mason then released me and instructed hurriedly, "Run!"

Without looking back, I dashed in the opposite direction, not quite sure which way I should be heading. I glimpsed at the passing trees worriedly as the sky grew darker. A slight drizzle began to fall, which quickly transformed into snow. The little flurries swirled around my face, sticking to my hair. I continued to run, faster and faster still, unaware of whether I was going deeper into the forest's depths or ultimately heading for an exit into open space.

Typically, my panic joined forces with my clumsiness, making me trip and almost fall head first into a tree. Just in time, I was able to reach out and grab the trunk before my head collided with it, panting heavily. I knew I wouldn't be able to run much more. So, if I couldn't run from it, I decided my only option was to hide; I pressed myself up against the tree I had almost ran into, counting on it to serve as my only source of protection.

Had the wolf followed me? Had it lunged for Mason instead? Was Mason alright? Had he died? All of these questions along with many more floated around in my brain as I peeked around the tree towards the path I'd come.

Mason was nowhere to be seen – neither was the enormous wolf. I prayed that Mason had lived. A vicious beast, fate was. Moments ago, I was lying on the grass, eyes focused on what I considered to be the most beautiful sight I could ever see, and now fate was pushing me closer to the edge – putting in jeopardy the only thing I held dear anymore.

The trees began to sway malevolently as a violent gust of wind flew through the forest. My hair blew around my face, getting stuck in my mouth. I picked up my finger and pulled my hair back, watching and waiting for something – anything. Out of the blue, a despaired howl pierced the empty silence.

It was an ominous sound. The kind of sound that makes you sick when you hear it. I knew this could mean anything. Was it a victory cry, rejoicing a unanimous triumph? Or was it some sick, cragged substitute for a sob that slipped out of the wolf's mouth as it curled in agony, the cry of a beast that knew only too well that death was close?

Unexpectedly, something jabbed me in the back, making me cringe and whirl around. A muscular arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me into the person's chest jarringly. I was unable to tell who it was that had grabbed me, but I was glad to see it was human. I craned my neck to look up at the person, surprised to see it was not Mason.

But Nathaniel.

His face was strained, careful. When he noticed me staring up at him, he didn't seem relieved that I was alive or anything along those lines – surprisingly enough, he looked enraged.

A crinkle of leaves made us both turn, but Nathaniel was the first to react. He whipped his gun out of his police belt, pointing it in the direction of sound. The sight of the weapon frightened me, sending a chill up my spine. Perhaps it was because of the invisible death that hid behind the bullet inside the barrel, an inevitable occurrence that followed whenever a fired shell met flesh. The gun was pointed towards a tree that was about fifteen yards from us, but with the progressing snowfall, it was hard to tell if anything actually was hiding behind it.

I watched the tree carefully, expecting the wolf to jump out from behind it and dart straight for us. However, when the leaves crunched again, I saw the outline of a foot just peeking out from behind the trunk's base.

Nathaniel's finger was seconds from pulling the trigger when I lifted his arm up, sending the bullet flying into the air instead of towards the tree.

"What are you doing!" He whispered to me furiously.

I didn't bother to whisper. "Don't fire!" I wiggled out of Nathaniel's grasp and dashed over to the tree. I knew it was Mason – I knew he wouldn't die.

He probably didn't expect me to come upon him so suddenly, because when I jumped onto him, he didn't respond at first. After a few startled moments, Mason realized it was me and wrapped me in a loving embrace. Mason quickly pulled my face to his, the near-death experience's terrifying impact painted on his eyes.

I sighed, "You forgot to say three."

He rolled his eyes, criticizing the fact that I could make a joke after what had just happened.

"Don't move or I'll be forced to open fire!" Nathaniel commanded, lifting the gun and pointing it at us. I surmised that from Nathaniel's angle it probably looked like Mason was attacking me instead of kissing me. "Let go of her!"

I glanced up at Mason as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

Mason lifted me up over a root and pulled me into Nathaniel's line of vision. As the two appraised each other for the first time, it was obvious they didn't like what they saw; resentment was pasted over their expressions – an apparent, immiscible intensity grew with the passing seconds, separating them like oil and water.

"This is Nathaniel," Mason guessed, his voice gruff.

"You're the guy that answered her phone this morning," Nathaniel stared at Mason with threatening eyes.

There was a moment of silence between all of us; the uninvited tension was practically tangible. I watched as Nathaniel hesitantly lowered his gun, placing it back in its holster. Mason eyed the gun carefully, tightening his grip around me instinctively.

Nathaniel cleared his throat, switching his piercing gaze to me. "Is he why you stood me up yesterday? Did he have you _preoccupied_?"

"I'm sorry, Nathaniel." I blurted. "It just slipped my mind …"

"That's not what bothers me," He shook his head disapprovingly. "You didn't even consider calling me? You decided to leave me waiting for you?"

"It's not like I forgot on purpose," I glimpsed up at Mason whose lips were pursed; I could feel a deep growl reverberating in his core.

Nathaniel exhaled, laughing just to brighten his mood – it didn't help at all.

Mason's mouth curved up into a smirk. "Maybe it was fate."

"What did you just say?" Nathaniel's eyes shot to Mason irately.

"I said," Mason stayed composed, despite his unpredictable temper I remembered. "Maybe it was fate. So, if I were you, I wouldn't even try to waste my time."

"Have you claimed her already?" Nathaniel chuckled, but his gaze was sharp. Mason tightened his grasp around me again, protective.

"Actually, yes, I have," Mason smiled, keeping an impressive cool.

"Guys, stop," I reprimanded. "This is ridiculous."

Nathaniel gestured toward me. "I think she's the one that decides that."

"There's no decision to make!" my eyes flashed up at Mason and over at Nathaniel. I simpered, "Nathaniel, I hardly know you."

"You didn't even try to get to know me," Nathaniel sighed. "Scarlett …"

Mason interrupted, "Why are you even here?"

"I came to Scarlett's house to see if she was okay considering she didn't show up," Nathaniel explained curtly. "And then I heard a bunch of howling, so I ran into the woods and found her cowering behind a tree."

Neither Mason nor I said anything.

"Is that how well you protect her?" Nathaniel accused. "Leave her to fend for herself?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Mason shook his head. "Run away with her and wait for the thing to catch us both? No, instead I did the smart thing and got her out of the way so I could kill the beast."

"How'd you kill it with your bare hands?" Nathaniel laughed teasingly, even though there wasn't a single trace of humor in his tone. "Are you some kind of superhuman moron?"

"It wasn't intent on killing me. I was just an aimless distraction for it," Mason corrected. "I stabbed it with my keys, even though I doubted that would do much harm, and the wolf probably didn't expect it, so while it was recovering, I ran …"

Nathaniel interrupted, turning his attention to me again. "And you! I told you stay out of the woods, did I not?"

"I'm sorry," I breathed, trying to keep up. "I forgot …"

He interrupted again, "You sure have an awful memory." His voice was biting.

"Nathaniel …" I tried to reason with him but he stopped me.

"No," Nathaniel's eyes turned to Mason's. "May the best man win."

Mason smiled, a persuasive smirk crossing his previously vacant expression. "I plan to."


	4. Chapter 4

_**I'm going on vacation today, so CONGRATULATIONS YOU GET DOUBLE THE IT'S THE PROMISE! YAY! But I'm pretty sure I only know of one person who really cares about that, right, volatile bear? **_

By the time Mason and I had returned to the house, day was officially gone and the darkness had authoritatively taken over. So many thoughts were floating around in my head – the uncertainty in my gut was unsettling. As we entered through the foyer, I walked into the living room and planted myself on the couch. Mason, however, remained idle by the front door.

I looked over at him, a bit distracted. "Are you alright? I was surprised you got past that monster unscathed."

Mason shrugged carelessly, his eyes retreating to the ceiling. "Nathaniel wasn't _that_ bad."

"I wasn't talking about Nathaniel," I stared at him reproachfully. "I was talking about the wolf."

"Oh," Mason hesitantly stepped forward and leaned against the wall a few feet from the sofa. "I just got a little scratch but it's not that bad."

I stood. "When guys say it's not bad, it most likely means they're bleeding to death."

He stepped back.

"Scarlett, you don't have to worry," He warned as I approached him.

I caught sight of his forearm, which was entirely drenched in blood. "Don't have to worry? You need to see a doctor!"

"I am one," He reminded me. "And I can tell that it's not that bad."

Ignoring his assessment, I rushed to the kitchen and picked up the phone. I quickly dialed Coop's number, pressing the phone to my ear. He picked up after the first ring.

"Hello?" Coop's voice sounded exhausted, more so than usual.

"Hey, Coop," I greeted briefly. "I need a house call."

"Are you really that sick?" He wondered. I could hear Krista's voice in the background, meaning Coop was probably just leaving the office.

"It's not for me," I told him. "My friend was attacked by some … dog, and I think it might need stitches."

"I'll be over in a couple minutes," Coop finalized. "Get some ice on it."

"Okay, see you then," I said just before hanging up.

"Who was that?" Mason wondered, walking into the kitchen.

"A friend from the hospital who is going to fix up that," I gestured toward Mason's arm as I walked over to the refrigerator.

Mason shook his head, refusing. "It's just a minor flesh wound."

I grabbed a Ziploc bag from a nearby drawer and, reaching into the freezer, loaded about ten ice cubes into the bag. I headed over to Mason, extending the ice pack to him.

He refused to take it. "I don't need …"

Impatient, I set the bag down on the cavernous gash.

Mason squirmed. "Damn, that's cold."

"Of course it's cold," I shook my head, watching as the blood instantly clung to the bag. "It's _ice_."

There was a moment of silence as Mason eventually became used to the frigid temperature.

I was the first to speak. "Is it some kind of competition now? Between you and Nathaniel, I mean."

"It's no competition," Mason confirmed. "Because I've already decided that you are _mine_."

I blushed.

"There is nothing Nathaniel can do to get in the way of how I feel for you," Mason's stared at me convincingly.

I nodded. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

He shrugged jokingly. "I can't promise anything."

"Mason," I reprimanded – my voice was dour. "I don't want this to become some kind of love triangle. That's just stupid."

"Well, I'm afraid that's what it's turning into, love," Mason chuckled.

"This isn't funny!" I admonished, inadvertently dabbing his arm too hard. He cringed. "Mason, I love you and you know that."

His eyes widened, shocked. "You've never said that before."

"Well, I'm saying it now." I sighed. "I love you."

"That's what I wanted to tell you in the woods," he admitted. "I decided that I love you, too. How cheesy."

It sounded much more romantic when his charming voice said it. "Really?"

"Of course," He nodded. "But Nathaniel might become a problem for me … a nuisance."

"Don't speak about him that way," I admonished.

"Why not?" Mason laughed curtly.

"It's rude," I shrugged. "Besides, Nathaniel wants nothing but the best for me, just like you do."

"You're not falling for him, are you?" He questioned.

I opened my mouth to answer but was interrupted by a loud knocking on the front door. Coop's timing was impeccable.

"Come in," I called, never taking my eyes away from Mason.

He looked away from me, frustrated.

"Alright," Coop rushed into the kitchen, no formal greeting necessary, and placed a bag on the kitchen table. "Where is it?"

Mason turned away from Coop, trying to avoid any contact with him, but I pushed him into a chair.

"Ooh, that's a nasty one," Coop accessed the damage. He dug into his bag and pulled out some gauze. "This might hurt a bit."

"I don't think that's really necessary …" Mason shook his head just before Coop swabbed the cut with an antibiotic. In turn, Mason let out an exasperated groan, the sting sweeping through him.

"What do you think, Doc?" I wondered, biting my lip.

"Oh, it's gonna need stitches for sure," Coop decided.

"I don't think so," Mason exhaled grudgingly.

"You seem to think a lot of things, don't ya, kid?" Coop laughed. "What makes you so positive? I'd like to let you know that I've been around stuff like this for almost ten years now."

"Yeah, so have I," Mason glanced up at Coop and then back at his arm.

Coop turned to me for an explanation. I nodded, "Mason's a doctor. He's a Harvard graduate and worked at a high-end place over in D.C."

"Impressive," Coop nodded, obviously pleased.

Mason couldn't help but smile, thankful for the praise.

"And, Scarlett," Coop stared at me depreciatively. "You don't sound very sick to me. Krista said you sounded awful on the phone yesterday."

"Oh, um," I cleared my throat, throwing in an unconvincing fake cough.

"Yeah, I'm not buying it," Coop rolled his eyes at me, pulling a needle and some string out of his bag. "Especially now that you have this brooding young man just sitting around your house."

"He's just a friend," I covered up.

"Ha," He laughed flatly, not accepting any lies. He looked down at Mason, smiling widely. "So you are the reason Scarlett's out sick? I have to say I'm happy to see you – means she won't be moping around like a mindless idiot anymore."

Mason laughed quietly to himself.

Coop skillfully began to guide the needle around the wound, patching the gash and pulling it together. I looked away.

"I hope this isn't too personal, but," Coop shrugged. "How was it?"

"Uh, how was what?" Mason pretended not to know what Coop was talking about. I exhaled embarrassedly – was this really what guys talked about?

Mason thought I didn't catch it when he nodded at Coop, chuckling quietly under his breath.

"She's that good?" Coop smiled, stitching up Mason's arm.

I slapped Coop's arm. "Have you ever heard of this thing called _privacy_?"

"Relax, Scarlett," Coop joked. "I think of you as a dear sister. That being said, I need to make sure you don't sleep with just anybody. How do you two know each other … or do you?"

"We've known each other since second grade," Mason replied.

"Oh, how cute," Coop smiled, grabbing some scissors from his carrier. "I am assuming you two were friends?"

"Not really," Mason sighed, looking up at me with an underlying laugh.

"We dated a little," I muttered almost inaudibly but Coop caught it anyway.

"Ah, I get it," He nodded, snipping up the last of the thread and dabbing his handiwork with the gauze again. "So – let me see if I've got this straight – he stopped by as a simple visit but ended up stealing your heart. Are you living together now?"

Mason said "no" and I said "yes" simultaneously.

"One of those undecided couples, are you?" He grinned, throwing all of his equipment in the bag and zipping it up. He evaded our eyes by concentrating on what his hands were doing. "I had a girlfriend like that once, long ways back."

"How'd you work out?" Mason was curious.

"We didn't," Coop eyed the two of us carefully, waiting for our reactions. Neither Mason nor I responded positively.

"But don't lose sleep on that," Coop packed up his equipment. "We weren't a very good couple to begin with. But you two … I can see the potential."

Mason judged his arm. He seemed a bit daunted.

Coop zipped up his bag, heading for the door. "Hey, kid … what's your name? I didn't catch it."

"Uh, Mason Ryder," He stood, wrapping his uninjured arm around my waist and following Coop to the front door, me in stride.

"Well, Mason," Coop reached for the door handle. "If you decide to stay in Forks, we could use a good fellow like you. One of our doctors just retired and I suppose you could take his place."

"Thanks for the offer," Mason looked down at me. "I'll definitely consider it."

"And I expect to see you at work tomorrow, Scarlett," Coop stepped out the door. "Bright eyed and bushytailed."

"I'll be at my desk by the time you get there," I assured him.

Coop winked at the both of us. "You two have fun tonight."

"Ugh. You're so embarrassing," I breathed self-consciously.

"I try my best," Coop chuckled before heading out the door to his car.

Once Coop had zoomed out the driveway and was long since down the corner, Mason turned to me, smiling, "He's pleasant."

"He's awkward," I corrected him, walking away from the door and into the living room.

Mason followed, but instead of sitting with me on the couch, he wandered over to my crowded bookshelf. He examined my small collection of books, along with a few pictures.

"Do you own any books under six-hundred pages?" He teased.

"I'm good at wasting time," I exhaled, watching as he skimmed.

"Hmm, let's see," He picked up his index finger, gliding it across each book's binding. "_Romeo & Juliet_, _Into the Wild_, _Wuthering Heights_, _Great Gatsby_,_ Pride and Prejudice_. You seem committed to the dark, suspense novels."

"They're appealing to me," I confessed.

"And," He pointed to one of the many pictures. "Who are these boys?"

"Why? Are you jealous?" I laughed, standing to look at the picture he was referring to. It was at my twenty-first birthday, when I was visiting Maryland from Provo.

My party hadn't been a very extravagant event – just family. In the picture Mason was pointing to, I stood beside my three cousins, Megan, Sean, and Michael. I had always been envious of Megan – she was too perfect; her singing voice was beyond compare, she had the face of an angel with long strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes, and her bubbly personality was attractive to everyone. However, she was a good friend of mine, somewhat like an older sister.

Standing beside Megan was her brother, Sean. He was your typical bookworm: fiery red hair, modern sleek glasses, pale complexion, and all the works. He was hilarious, always there to make someone laugh. He'd lived out-of-state since I was thirteen, but he'd come up for my 21st as a little surprise visit.

On my other side was Michael, who was the complete opposite of his brother. He had dark hair and brown eyes, utterly eye-catching. Even though he'd grown into a prospering businessman with a growing family, I still remembered him as the geeky kid who sat in the darkness of his basement playing video games with a part-time job at Burger King.

"Those are my cousins," I told him.

"Hmm," Mason nodded, placing his hand on my lower back. "And who's this?" He placed his index finger on a gorgeous blonde.

I scowled.

"You seem intimidated," He smiled.

"That's my sister," I looked up at him, waiting for a reply. "Recognize her?"

"That's your sister?" He exclaimed, laughing unreservedly. "She … I don't recall … how'd she get so good-looking?"

I frowned. "That's what I'd like to know."

My sister and I looked nothing alike, and we never had. Some people had said that we had similar facial features, but I never could see it. She had long blonde hair, smooth faultless tan skin, and gorgeous cobalt eyes. She was quite the live wire in her high school days, or so I'd heard. By the time she was a freshman in high school, I was a freshman in college. Every time I got my monthly phone call at Provo, my sister had a new boyfriend who was captain of the football team or of the lacrosse team or some sports hero. I think, other than Mason, I dated two people in high school.

"Well, she's four years younger," I bit my lip. "So she's twenty-three now."

"Geez," He exhaled, picking up the picture and looking closer at it.

"Don't get any ideas," I took the picture from him and put it back down.

He shrugged. "I prefer brunettes anyway."

My face brightened to the embarrassing color of a tomato, taking Mason's hand and playing with his fingers. In turn, he bent his fingers, intertwining our hands together.

"I like this," I exhaled.

"You mean our fingers bent together?" he chuckled silently.

"Well," I shrugged. "Symbolically, yes."

He smiled, lifting his other hand and caressing my cheek.

"But, I meant," I looked up at his acute eyes, mystified. "I like having you with me – I like having you around. I like … I _adore_ your company."

"Oh, love," He exhaled deeply. "You sound a bit lost."

I gripped his hand tighter. "I'm not. Not anymore."

* * *

><p>Morning came too soon.<p>

I wanted to stay isolated in this house of mine, Mason with me all the while. But reality summoned me back to work, something I did not appreciate.

I could feel a tradition in the making as I came downstairs, all dressed and ready to go. Mason was standing at the stove, cooking away, my iPod playing in the background. Mason must've grown used to my playlist – some songs he hummed along with and some he even knew the words.

"Morning," He greeted me sweetly, not turning to face me.

"Whatcha making?" I walked over to him, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Fried eggs," He turned his head, kissing me gently for a few seconds. "Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "You aren't gonna serve me everyday, are you?"

He laughed before answering, "Well, I wasn't. But now I think I might."

Mason promptly slid some eggs onto a plate and then handed it to me. I shook my head, "I don't know if I have enough time to sit in. Coop's expecting me early."

"Coop won't mind," He smirked, sitting down at the table and tapping the spot across from him.

I obliged.

"So when do you …" Mason was rudely interrupted by the telephone.

Being the courteous soul he was, Mason got up to answer the phone, but I got up before he did. "Maybe I should answer it. We don't won't another repeat of the Nathaniel episode."

"Maybe you're right," He chuckled, walking back over to the table.

I looked over at him, unable to pull my eyes away. "Hello?"

"What's up?" Lilli's voice filtered into my ears. I hadn't heard her voice in so long; I'd been so distracted, I'd almost forgotten she existed.

"Oh, Lilli," I greeted. At the sound of her name, Mason's eyes shot in my direction. "You won't believe who …"

Mason ran over, waving his hands in front of his face. "Don't tell her," he mouthed. "Not right now."

I put my hand over the receiver. "Why not?"

"I don't know how long I'm staying," He shrugged. "So why worry her?"

I bit my lip, upset. "You're not staying."

"Sweetheart," He laughed quietly. "Wherever I go, you're going with me."

I exhaled, relieved.

"Hello? Scarlett? You still there?" Lilli's voice emptied out of the receiver.

Quickly pulling the phone back to my ear, I sighed, "Sorry about that. My food caught on fire."

"You're cooking!" She shouted, her voice rising to hysterics. "Don't burn that house down, fool!"

"I promise not to burn the house down," I vowed, laughing quietly to myself. "It's too beautiful for me to burn it down?"

"So what were you gonna say?" She wondered.

I played dumb – something I was good at. "What are you talking about?"

"You just said I wouldn't believe who whatever," She explained, impatient.

"Oh, I just wanted to say that," I improvised. "Krista says hi."

"Alrighty then," She allowed. "Hey, I'm so sorry I haven't called in such a long time. I had this huge conference meeting concerning clothing and names of characters – different chakras and all that jazz. I've probably missed so much! Fill me in!"

"Why do you keep asking?" I questioned. "You know my answer is going to be that it rained and got dark."

"Right, right," She exhaled. "I guess I should just stop asking. Well, I gotta go to bed. I'm exhausted."

"Got to be off to work," I smiled. "See you soon."

After swift goodbyes, I hung up the phone and turned back to Mason. "So you're not staying in Forks?"

"It's disgusting here," He cringed. "We should move somewhere sunny."

"No," I replied defiantly. "I love it here. Forks is my home."

"How about we discuss this later?" He suggested, walking into the foyer and grabbing my coat for me. "You can't be late."

"What are you gonna do all day? Just sit around?" I wondered curiously.

"Probably just watch _Twilight_," he answered sarcastically, laughing. Then he added honestly, "I've yet to discover what's so captivating about it."

"Well, you have fun with that," I smiled, leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips. He pulled me into him – I was utterly addicted.

He was the first to pull away. "You have to go."

"Alright," I nodded. "I'll be home around 5:30."

"And I'll be right here waiting for you," he kissed me on the cheek lovingly, quickly pushing me by the lower back out the front door.

I walked over to my truck which was sitting there waiting for me, heaved open the door and hopped into the cab. As I pulled the gear shift from park to reverse and backed out of the driveway, I saw Mason standing in the doorway, and waved when I caught sight of him.

"Love you," He mouthed, waving.

I blacked out for a moment, a bit hypnotized by something so beautiful telling me they loved me. To have the reliance and love of a person so affectionate and so dazzling was pretty astonishing to me. All of my previous boyfriends never really struck that intimate connection; they were all quite distant. Of course, they said they loved me and I returned the favor, but I had never felt how I felt with Mason. My love with him was supernatural.

Simply invigorating.

The streets were wet and icy, so I drove extra slow. Going normal speed, the hospital was probably two minutes away; but at the speed I was driving, it would probably take me at most five. I watched the passing foliage, admiring the magical atmosphere Forks presented.

Just the thought of leaving Forks sent shivers up my spine, and the notion that Mason even considered suggesting it punctured me. In spite of myself, my love for Forks had been gradual; I hated the wet and the cold when I first got here. Now, it was impossible for me to live without the weather – I recoil from the sun like your average melodramatic vampire.

As I pulled into the hospital's parking lot, I was glad to see Coop's car was not here yet. His trust in me probably needed to be mended after I lied to him. If I'd been late, he probably would've condemned me all the more. I jumped out of my Chevy and into the slight drizzle. The weatherman had called for a downpour later this evening, but it's not like that wasn't expected.

Upon entering the hospital's front doors, I received an immediate fervent greeting from Krista. "Scarlett! You're back already? I thought you wouldn't have come in until tomorrow. Feeling better?"

"Uh," I exhaled, not yet awake enough for her animated personality. "Coop didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" she raised an eyebrow.

Apparently, Coop surprisingly hadn't told anyone about Mason yet and I was grateful for that; any extra attention would be extremely unwelcomed. "Oh, I had the flu – it was horrible. Coop even had to make a house call."

"Yeah, I saw him leave for a house call yesterday," She nodded. "But I didn't know it was for you. Are you sure you're capable of staying in today?"

"I'm fine," I confirmed. "It was just one of those passing phases."

"Well, it's a good thing you're feeling better," She grinned maternally. "So, I have some planning to do, you know, for Christmas. Do you think you will be joining us like you did for Thanksgiving?"

"Um, probably not," I answered, drumming my fingers on the counter.

"Why not?" She wondered. "I thought Lilli wasn't gonna be back for a little while longer?"

"She's not," I sighed. "But I'm probably going to be spending the holiday with a friend. And I could never just burst in on your holiday like that. It would be rude."

"Scarlett, never think you're imposing," She exhaled. "It's always a pleasure to have you over. Besides, my kids love you; they think you're great."

"Well, maybe I could come over some other time," I grinned. "I'd better get upstairs before Coop kills me for being a couple seconds late."

She laughed. "See you later. It's good to have you back."

I said one last parting farewell to Krista before getting in the elevator and heading upstairs. As I approached the front desk, I sighed with relief – I had officially beat Coop. Taking off my jacket and setting it on the counter, I turned to sit behind my desk when I practically ran face first into someone.

"Good morning," Coop greeted, smiling widely.

"You scared me!" I exhaled.

"You're late," He accused.

"Only by a couple of minutes," I countered. "When did you even get here? I didn't see your car out front."

"My ride broke down, so I had a friend drive me," He explained, leaning against the counter. "Thought you beat me, didn't you?"

I rolled my eyes, walking behind my desk.

"Did Mason have anything to do with your tardiness?" he smiled deviously.

"How long are you gonna hang that over my head?" I slouched. "Didn't I already apologize for skipping work?"

"Actually, I don't recall you apologizing," He looked away from me.

"In that case," I scowled. "I'm sorry, Dr. Cooper."

"Will it happen again?" He asked, his tone lightheartedly reprimanding.

"No, sir," I promised, tossing some papers into the trashcan.

"Well, why aren't you doing anything productive then?" He pushed away from the counter. "I don't pay you to sit around! Get working!"

"Of course, your highness," I nodded, grimacing. Coop walked away then, laughing hysterically.

I sat down, picking up some papers that had been thrown haphazardly onto my desk during my absence and filed them away. Then I turned to my computer, rubbing the track pad and awakening it from its slumber. I logged in and checked my inbox – just two new entries: one from my mother and the other from Nathaniel.

I went straight for my mother's email first, wanting to avoid any negativity. It was her typical 'how are you' and 'when are you coming to visit' letter. I quickly typed up a response:

**Hey Mom,**

**I don't know when I'm coming to visit or where I am going to get the money for plane tickets. But don't worry; I'll visit soon enough.**

**By the way, I'm fine. Forks is rainy – just how I like it. Tell Dad I said hey.**

**Love you,**

**Scarlett**

After speedily sending my message off into cyberspace, I braced myself for Nathaniel's letter, not really wanting to hear what he said. I bet he was furious with me – fuming at Mason. I guess telling Nathaniel that I wasn't capable of having a boyfriend at the moment and then a day later telling him I had a boyfriend – worse, my _boyfriend_ had told him I had boyfriend – it all seemed pretty hypocritical of me.

I bit my lip, opening up the file.

**Scarlett,**

**I just wanted to apologize for acting so rudely to your boyfriend the other day. You know, when I almost shot him and everything. I hope you can forgive me for acting so impulsively.**

**To make up for it, would you like to come down to the Rez to surf? … Or watch us surf – whatever you want to do. I understand if you can't make it, but please call me this time if you can't come. Waiting for you in the rain wasn't all that fun.**

**Thanks and sorry,**

**Nathaniel**

**P.S. – hope you don't mind. I siphoned your email out of your records :)**

I sighed.

Honestly, I was extremely relieved. I'd expected some kind of crazy death threat or something insane along those lines. Obviously, Nathaniel was stronger than I thought; he was able to surpass the "competition" in a matter of hours – evidently, he was too mature for that … and that impressed me. Now all I needed to do was make Mason think the same way.

Easier said than done.

I clicked the reply button, quickly typing up a short response:

**Hi Nathaniel,**

**Thanks for your email – that was super sweet of you**

I stopped, erased the whole page and began again.

**Hey,**

**I'll have to talk to Mason about days and times, but I'd like hanging out with you sometime.**

**-Scarlett**

**P.S. – don't worry; it doesn't bother me that you dig through my personal records**

Seconds after I pressed send, the message disappeared from the screen, announcing: message sent. I exited out of my email, turning back to the multiple filing cabinets calling my name. I leaned over, reaching into a nearby drawer and pulling out my agenda for the day – various appointments needed to be scheduled for the upcoming week and miscellaneous checks needed to be signed, ect; altogether, my day sounded inevitably exiting … not.

"Hi, we need an ultrasound," a voice said, pulling my eyes up to the face.

I stood, shocked to see who was staring back at me. His face wasn't as bright as it usually was; right now, it was strained, despondent. His hazel eyes, however, were as vivid and intense as usual. His skin had always been dark as the midnight sky; but today it seemed inexplicably gloomier. It was apparent he was shocked to see my face as well.

"Asher?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, Scarlett," He stuttered nervously, obviously not expecting to see his mom's best friend staring back at him. "My mom said you were out sick."

"I was," I confirmed. "This is my first day back."

"Oh," he avoided my concerned gaze. "I didn't expect you to be here."

I nodded, staring at him expectantly.

He glanced over his shoulder at a girl sitting in one of the few waiting room chairs. She looked exhausted, her wide brown eyes glued intently on the floor. Both of her hands sat on her stomach, rubbing in a circular motion; it was just then that I realized how extremely pregnant she was.

"We need a favor," Asher snapped me back to his face.

"Hmm," I refrained from drawing conclusions. "Come on back."

I picked up a clipboard, walking out from behind my desk. Asher walked over to the girl and helped her up out of the chair. I led them to a back room, taking note that the girl staggered precariously, this new weight of hers obviously making her dangerously unsteady. I ripped a long, white paper sheet from a roll and laid it down on the hospital bed when we reached one of the rooms. She carefully set herself on it, leaning back and gripping Asher's hand tightly.

"Alright, sweetie," I smiled comfortingly, walking up to the ultrasound machine. "This'll only take a second."

As I dexterously flipped on the machine, I overheard Asher whispering to her in a soft voice, "It'll be okay. It'll be fine."

I swallowed hard as I brought the wire over to the girl; she eyed it with cautious eyes. "This won't hurt at all."

"That's what all the doctors say," Her voice was hoarse.

"Well, I'm not lying to you," I grinned, handing the wire to her; surprising me, she knew what to do with it. "The picture should come up in a second."

The three of us turned to the monitor, watching a picture of a baby filter onto the screen. Its body was clearly decipherable – one could already detect hands, fingers, a nose, eyes, a mouth, feet, toes and so forth. This worried me; by the look of it, this baby would be due in approximately one month, two at the maximum.

I watched as the girl's face remained indifferent – dismal. "Gender?"

"That's a girl," I answered surely.

Asher's breathing grew unevenly heavy as he watched the picture with a nauseous look. "Hmm" was all he said.

"So," I sighed, pulling a pen out of my pocket and retreating to my clipboard. "I'll need a name, address, phone number, and your basic information. Just so I can file it away and write up a quick bill …"

"Please," the girl begged. "I don't want any record that we came here."

"Why not?" I wondered.

She looked embarrassed, but she answered me nonetheless. "My parents _can't_ find out about this."

I glimpsed up at Asher and then back at the girl. Her face was painstakingly miserable – a clear depiction of tearful hours and sleepless nights. Asher was looking at no one; he stared blankly at the floor, as if he were looking at something far away. An undeniable queasiness filled my stomach as I realized how quickly these two teenagers' lives were about to change.

Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the door and shut it, making sure no one could overhear. "Okay. What's your name?"

The girl gulped, guarded.

"Don't worry," I exhaled. "I won't write it down or tell anybody. You can trust me."

Hesitantly, the girl looked up at Asher; in turn, he nodded. She turned to me again, and replied reluctantly, "Gabrielle."

"Alright, Gabrielle," I sighed, sitting down in the chair by her hospital bed. "I'm going to try to help you as best I can."

She took an epigrammatic breath, obviously pleased.

"But I want you to understand the gravity of the situation," I continued. "I will pay for this appointment …"

She interrupted. "But I don't want this to be documented."

"My boss will find out about it eventually," I informed her. "There will be a record that I used the ultrasound."

Gabrielle frowned.

"But I won't right down your name or anything," I guaranteed. "However, whether you like it or not that baby is going to come out."

She closed her eyes for an excessively long time, before replying, "Can I have a moment alone? To think everything over …."

"Of course," I smiled, walking over to the door, Asher close on my heels.

As soon as Asher was out the door, I turned and shut the door behind us. Immediately after the door was shut, I lost my sympathy; I walked back to the front desk, Asher secluded behind me. He looked pretty ominous in his black hoodie and dark jeans; his gloominess gave him a certain dangerous quality for a moment.

I had no tolerance whatsoever. "Answer this for me. Is that your baby or is that your baby?"

"It's not mine, Scarlett," Asher answered vacantly.

"Don't lie to me," I shook my head. "I could tell just by the look on your face in there that it was yours."

He frowned, glancing over at the window, as he admitted, "Yes. It's mine."

"Does Krista know about this?" I wondered.

"She doesn't even know I'm here," he responded despondently.

"How'd you get in the front door without her seeing you?" I wondered.

"My mom's worked here for awhile," Asher shrugged against the counter. "I know all the back entrances."

"I don't think this is something you should be keeping from her," I advised him, watching as his morose expression grew even more morose, if that were even possible.

"It'll just break her heart," he confessed. "She's always told me to wait until after I'm married and everything. I just didn't want to see her say 'I told you so'."

"She wouldn't say that," I denied. "I know Krista – she would be supportive of you and your decisions."

"Yeah, well, this decision isn't something to be proud of," He frowned. "I wish I could take it all back, you know?"

"Actually, no, I don't know," I frowned.

"You didn't have any boyfriends in high school?" He asked apathetically.

"None that were sexually active," I disclosed, looking away from him.

Asher's eyes were glued to the floor, humiliated. "What do you think I should do now? What are my options?"

"Well," I shrugged, lowering my voice. "I would suggest abortion, but it's a little late in the development stage. I'm sure there's some doctor out there that does it on such short-term notice, but that's not us. We haven't got the equipment. Besides, an abortion comes with consequences."

"Such as?" He frowned, glancing up at me.

"It'll be easy enough to abort the baby now," I explained. "But it will come back to bite Gabrielle later on. She will regret doing it eventually, and it will scar her for the rest of her life. Granted, she'd also have to give out her information for us – or to any hospital for that matter – to perform the abortion, and she seems dead set against that."

"What's another option?" He asked, desperate.

I sighed. "You could always come clean and tell Krista. Then the baby would be born and your family could support you."

His eyes widened. "That seems more painful than the first."

"For who?" I judged. "You or Gabrielle?"

"Next option?" He grimaced.

"Okay, last but not least," I frowned. "You could leave town, and take Gabrielle and the baby with you."

"And where would I go?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Anywhere not Forks," I elucidated. "That way you could avoid medical records like she wants and your mother's recognition like you want. Everybody wins."

"I'd be throwing my life away," he mumbled.

"You'd be starting a new one," I sighed, quickly adding, "But it's not like I endorse this option whatsoever."

"What would you do?" He questioned.

"I would go downstairs and tell Krista," I replied.

He surprised me by laughing. "Think like a teenager stuck in this situation would, Scarlett. You know for a fact that is the last thing you would do. You would be hopelessly lost, just like Gabrielle and I are."

"You're in need of direction," I countered. "And who better to point you in the right direction than your parents?"

"Let me just …" Asher began, but he was interrupted by a buzzing noise.

I turned to see the switchboard on the corner of my desk had lit up. "It's Gabrielle. She's pressing the nurse's button to call us back."

"How about I take Gabrielle home and we talk about it there?" He proposed.

"Good idea," I instructed. "Go get her and take her home. Think of all the alternatives before you do anything stupid – talk out _everything_. I'd get out of here before Dr. Cooper sees you."

Asher obeyed, running back to the hospital room and slowly but surely returning with wavering Gabrielle in hand. He looked over at me as he passed, mouthing, "Thank you."

Gabrielle turned to me as well, smiling gratefully.

As they headed down towards the steps, I heard them begin to whisper to each other silently. I knew now that this would be a rough evening for the both of them, crowded with multiple life-changing decisions. Oh, how I prayed that they would see that decision two was the best; he should go to Krista right now and tell her everything – the last thing she would feel was cockiness and I knew it.

They exited through the door to the stairwell, waving to me as they left. As the main door creaked shut, I saw Asher unlock and guide Gabrielle through the off-limits side door that would ultimately lead them to the back parking lot.

Hopefully, that wouldn't be the last time I saw them.

_**By the way, let me know if these chapters are overwhelmingly long. They were meant for a different format, and I will split them up if I have to. **_


	5. Chapter 5

The end of the day came gradually, but it came, nonetheless.

I was thrilled to get home and see Mason; the lack of his face in front of my eyes was frustrating, even though he'd only been with me for a couple days. After throwing a speedy goodbye to Coop – "Little eager to get home, are we?" He'd teased, winking at me – I rushed to the elevator, aggravated when it wasn't moving fast enough.

When I finally reached the first floor, the foremost ambition in my brain was to get to my car and get home as fast as time allowed. However, I'd forgotten about a certain roadblock.

"Scarlett!" Krista called to me.

The sound of her voice punched through my determination. Immediately as I turned to look at her face, I thought of Asher and Gabrielle earlier today; Krista had the possibility of becoming a grandmother and had no idea. Of course, I considered telling her the truth for a couple seconds, but I pushed the idea away – Asher would kill me and bring me back to clean up the mess if I ever revealed such a secret with his mother.

"You sure seem rushed to leave," She commented, her smile restoring me from my reverie. "Long day?"

My throat went dry. "Oh, I just want to get home, that's all," I shrugged, walking over to her desk.

"I have to leave soon too," she sighed. "We just got the news that Gemma got a scholarship to Washington University, so we're having a big celebratory dinner."

"That's great!" I smiled feebly – I tried being overjoyed, but the only expression my face could manage was blameworthy; I didn't know why I felt so guilty – it wasn't even _my_ secret I was keeping from her.

"Yeah, we are so proud of her," She nodded. "Hopefully, Asher will get a great offer too; we're short on college funds as it is. But I have faith in him – he's always been so bright and perceptive."

"Uh-huh," I nodded. "Well, I better get going. You have a nice night."

"See you tomorrow," Krista waved as I headed for the door.

I felt strange as I approached my car. There was an irksome feeling stirring inside me, begging me to run back inside and tell Krista the whole truth. However, I knew that I couldn't – it wouldn't be right. Asher had placed his faith in me, and running in there to tell his mom wouldn't make me very dependable.

Jumping into my dry cab, I decided that I wouldn't tell anyone unless Asher gave me permission, no matter how guilty I felt on the inside.

My car stuttered to a start, vociferous considering the lack of rain. It was only drizzling slightly at the moment, but by the look of the looming rainclouds, a heavy shower was approaching. I flipped on the radio, just to serve as some soothing background noise, but when the rain began, the music was drained out. By the time I reached the house, a fatal downpour had drenched everything in sight, making it practically impossible to see.

Before getting out of the enclosed, safe cabin of my truck, I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the attack of gigantic raindrops. I swung open my door and slammed it behind me, making a mad dash for the front door. Once I finally reached shelter under the little covering above the front door, I patted down my hair, which was now soaking and dripping excessively.

Decisively, I unlocked the door and stepped in, calling out, "I'm home!"

There was no response. I leaned back and looked out the front door, noting that Mason's Mercedes was still parked in the driveway as it was when I left this morning.

"Mason?" I sighed, taking off my coat and laying it on the banister.

"In the kitchen," He responded, so quietly I almost didn't hear him.

I sauntered into the kitchen, expecting to see Mason actively cooking or listening to my iPod dock. However, he sat there at the table, unresponsive, with his back turned to me. He made no move towards me as I entered the room; he seemed to be a forgotten angel etched out of stone, frozen in time.

"Hey," I smiled, walking over to him slowly. "You okay?"

"Um, yeah," He nodded subtly, still not turning to face me.

"That's not very believable," I grinned, putting my hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at me then, his stare blank. His face was blank, and paler than I had ever seen before. His eyes were bloodshot and wide. I'd seen this face staring back at me in the mirror many times before – he'd been crying.

"I'm fine," He tried sounding convincing but his voice cracked.

"Were you crying?" I frowned, sitting down in the chair beside him. I reached out for him, but he recoiled away from the touch. "What's wrong?"

"Scarlett, I'm fine," He insisted again in vain.

"Alright," I didn't want to push him; if he didn't want to talk about it, we wouldn't. "So what did you do today?"

"Hmm," He paused, sniffing. All the words were split. "Um, I watched the beginning of _Twilight_ but then I got bored. After that I browsed through your photo albums that I found in your room. Then I had an egg salad sandwich for lunch. And … then I started packing …." His voice trailed of into the distance, disintegrating into the overpowering pound of rain.

"Packing?" My stomach jumped into my throat.

He exhaled, nodded carefully and then looked away.

"Oh, Mason," I breathed. "You have to understand something. I don't want to leave Forks and I never will. I love you, yes, that's true, but I could never leave this place; besides, I'm already settled in – moving wouldn't do me much good. I'm not very positive when it comes to new places, especially sunny …"

Mason interrupted me impassively. "You're not moving."

"We're not?" I became confused.

He said nothing for a very long time, leaving me to over-think everything he'd said. Gasping, I realized his word choice: _you're _not moving. Did that mean he was leaving me? Just the thought of that was horrendous to me.

"Don't leave me," I sounded like someone who was drowning, gasping desperately for air.

"I'm not leaving you," he promised, his voice hushed and far away. "Well, just for a little while. But I'll be back."

"Why?" I asked.

"I got a phone call this afternoon," He frowned. "My grandmother was in a car accident the other day, and passed early this morning."

"I'm so sorry," I reached out and gripped his hand. He held my hand tight, the pain apparent in his eyes.

He laughed flatly, "I just feel kind of guilty. I hardly spent any time with her, and when I was with her, I ignored her, too caught up in my own life."

"I was about ten when my grandparents died," I nodded comprehendingly. "I didn't know them very well, but it was still sad."

"Hmm," he sighed, his eyes fixated on the floor.

"So, when are we leaving to go to the funeral?" I wondered.

"_I'm_ going to leave soon," He answered. "_You're_ not going anywhere."

"Why not?" I complained, beginning to panic. I wondered if he realized how critical he was to me. "I can't be without you."

"Don't think I haven't put a lot of thought into this, love," He reached forward and caressed my cheek with his fingertips. "I just don't think a funeral is the best place to introduce my new girlfriend to my family. Besides, you're still healing your relationship with Coop; you shouldn't be asking him for any favors – let alone two weeks off."

"You're going to be gone _two_ _weeks_?" I gulped.

"Three at the most," He replied despondently.

"But I thought there was a wake one day and then a funeral the day after," I explained. "Isn't that all?"

"Yes, well," He exhaled, glancing out the window. His voice was so quiet; it was difficult to hear him over the pounding rain. "My mother is pretty staggered right now. First, I leave her without warning and randomly come to live in the middle of rainy Washington State; then her mother abruptly passes away … and I just heard that my brother, Reid, moved to South Carolina – she's just losing one family member after another."

"So you want to be with her," I concluded.

"At least till she feels a bit better," He rubbed the palm of my hand. "But then I'll be back. I promise."

"Three weeks is a long time," I whispered to myself.

"You can manage yourself, can't you?" He chuckled halfheartedly. "You've survived this long without me; a couple weeks can't be that bad."

"I guess," I muttered.

"You'll be fine," He comforted me. "I'll be back before you know it."

"When do you have to leave?" I wondered curiously.

"My plane leaves from Port Angeles at eight," He informed me. "And Port Angeles is about two hours or so away from Forks, so … I'd probably have to leave around six …"

I interrupted him. "But that's only a half-hour from now."

"I know," He sighed. "I tried getting a plane that left tomorrow or the day after … but with all this rain, the flights out of state are pretty limited."

My heart fell to the floor. "I wish you could stay."

"I wish I could stay, too, love," He agreed lovingly. "And forget the rest of the world even existed."

"That sounds nice," I looked down at my hands and then back up at him.

"Hmm," He pondered for a moment and then picked up again. "By the time I return, Christmas will be just around the corner."

"You're staying for Christmas?" my spirits lifted.

"Why wouldn't I?" He smiled genially, but his eyes were bloodshot, so the smile wasn't capable of being entirely full.

I grinned, relieved that I wouldn't be spending a miserably slushy holiday alone; instead, I would be spending it with the person I was in love with, a warm bubbly feeling I wasn't used to.

"I vow," He put up his right hand theatrically. "That I will give you the best Christmas ever."

"Would that involve presents?" I asked, fearing the answer.

"Well, naturally," he leaned back in his chair.

I crossed my arms across my chest, disappointed. "I don't like presents."

"Wow," He laughed. "Never in my lifetime have I heard any girl say that."

"If you haven't already noticed," I sighed, standing up and walking over to the refrigerator. "I'm not like other girls."

"That's for sure," He nodded, agreeing. "You're very … peculiar."

"Why, thank you," I giggled with an undeniable sarcastic tone of voice.

He added quickly. "In a funny, endearing way."

I smiled widely at him before turning to see about a week supply of food waiting for me on the top shelf. "What's all this?"

"I saw some of your leftovers," He stood. "And I almost gagged. It was all … disappointingly made."

"I'm not the most agile cook," I admitted.

"So I've noticed," He laughed, grabbing my hand. "So I threw all of your garbage away and bought some suitable food. I even precooked some of it – you'll be able to just throw it in the microwave, something I trust you know how to do?"

"I know how to use I microwave," I exhaled. "What do you think I've been living off of for the past ten months?"

"Well, that's about enough food to last you a week," He said.

"And for the other two weeks?" I wondered curiously.

"You can order takeout," He answered, walking towards the foyer. "Care to help me pack?"

I took a deep breath, despising his exodus. "Sure."

He noticed my hesitation as I walked over to him. "Three weeks isn't that long, my dear."

"It is for me," I complained, as we walked up the stairwell. "Three weeks is like … three millenniums."

"How about this?" He smiled as we reached the top floor and headed for the bedroom. "Don't think about the three millenniums to come. Think of the hundreds of millenniums I'll spend with you after I come back."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that a promise?"

"It's a promise," He agreed, placing a short kiss on my lips.

We entered my bedroom, which had now become ours. It looked much different than Bella's now; it seemed like Edward had just moved in. Mason's suitcase sat in the corner by my desk, his laptop sitting beside my old secondhand computer. His jacket was sprawled out across my bed and various articles of his clothing were scattered about the room. I'd promised him that he could have half of my closet, but obviously that wasn't going to work out, so I'd allowed him to use the utility closet in the hall in the future – he didn't complain.

I found all of this redundant; his suitcase had barely been unpacked since he arrived in Forks – now he just had to load it back up again.

"You seem disappointed," he noted, walking over to the bed and grabbing his cargo jacket.

"Why shouldn't I be?" I exhaled, sitting at my desk. "You're leaving."

"Not forever," he promised, chuckling. "You're such a complainer."

"I don't like being alone," I looked up out the window distantly.

He laughed quietly, throwing something into his suitcase. "Get a dog."

"I can't very well hold a conversation with a dog, now, can I?" I grinned at him. "Besides, now that I've seen you, nothing else will suffice."

"I'm so flattered," He smiled, sauntering out the door and down the hall. Seconds later he returned with a Tupperware container filled with the basic amenities: toothbrush, toothpaste, etc.

"Where exactly are you going anyway?" I wondered. "Gaithersburg?"

Mason had lived a few minutes from my childhood home in Maryland; if not for the barricade of trees, his house probably could've been seen from mine.

"Philadelphia," he answered, walking into the closet to grab something and coming out before he continued, "That's where the majority of my mom's side lives."

"Oh, that's right," I recalled. "You were the Eagles enthusiast."

"And you were the Redskins fan, correct?" he guffawed.

"I don't like to admit to that," I sighed. "If you recall, they weren't the best team for awhile."

"If I recall, they were the worst," He teased, zipping up his luggage.

"Yes, well," I shook my head. "I'm strictly Seattle now. Perhaps I can get you to convert, if you're staying in Washington."

"Good luck with that," He bent over, picking up a shirt of his that was lain at the foot of my bed.

Turning, I glanced enviously at his classy laptop that sat on my desk; it was sleek black and the newest Apple edition. "You're very contemporary, aren't you?"

"The faster, the better," He responded without looking at me. "With my job, I need to be on top of things at all times. You seem quite the opposite; I mean, your beast of a truck, that monster of a computer – dreadfully primitive."

"Primitive is such a … reproachful word," I countered. "I prefer classic."

"Oh, well, excuse me," That gorgeous, tempting smile crossed his face, sending my pulse fluttering. For a moment, both of us were frozen, staring at each other attentively.

Just then, his cellphone buzzed in his pocket, startling us both out of our intense stare. "Hello? Oh, hey …. No, actually I'm in Washington State …. No, I'm not joking. Listen, I'll have to call you back. I'm packing. Alright, bye."

"Who was that?" I wondered.

"Oh, just my youngest brother," He explained. "He's already in Philly, and was wondering when I'd arrive."

"Cole?" I stood, pushing the chair under the desk.

"How do you remember him?" He gaped, his eyebrow raised.

"I babysat him junior year, remember?" I reminded him.

"Ah, junior year," Mason reminisced, sitting down on the bed. "That's when we started dating – well, for the second time. I remember we went to prom together, and you wore that adorable billowing red dress."

"You remember that?" I walked over to him, sitting beside him. He didn't allow it; he lifted me up with one arm and rested me on his lap promptly.

"Of course," He wrapped his arms around my waist. "You looked regal."

"Regal?" I simpered. "I don't think …"

"Don't protest," He smiled, moving his face forward and placing his lips on mine. He was zealous, greedy almost; he pulled me close, falling backwards onto the bed – the kiss pained us both; we both knew what it was.

Goodbye.

I could've laid there for hours, kissing him eternally to my heart's content. Nevertheless, all good things relentlessly come to an end.

Mason was the first to pull away. "It's almost six."

"I don't want to stop," I whined.

"I'll be late for my flight, love," He sighed, taking me off his lap and standing. "Besides, its time you got some food in your stomach."

"I'm not hungry," I continued my rant.

He exhaled, turning to face me with a devilish grin. "You're just so _stubborn_, you know that?"

"Is that a bad thing?" I shrugged.

"I probably won't be able to leave the house without you dragging behind me," He joked humorously.

I didn't laugh. Instead, I actually considered the idea – I could follow him to the airport and get on the plane without him noticing. Maybe I could sneak away with him to Philly. It would've been much easier than moping around here, impatiently waiting for him to come back.

"Don't even think about it," He interrupted my scheming. "Looks like _you're_ the clingy one now."

"I'm not clingy," I protested. "I'm just needy."

"Isn't that the same thing?" He lifted his suitcase of the bed and carried it out into the hallway. I followed him as we made our way down the steps.

I grabbed his coat off the hook, handing it too him. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too, love," He comforted, taking his jacket from me and planting a kiss on my cheek. "I have some precooked lasagna in the fridge for you. All you have to do is heat it up."

"I will," I nodded as he opened up the front door.

"It's only three weeks, mind you," He stepped out onto the porch and followed him after grabbing my jacket on the way out and wrapping it around me. "Oh, and don't burn down the house while I'm gone."

"I won't."

"And remember one more thing," He let go of his suitcase.

"What?" I sighed, wondering if I should pull out a pad of paper and take notes with all the instructions he was giving me.

"I love you," He held me in an affectionate embrace. It seemed that whenever he said those three words, I was stunned; not because he was the one that said them – although, that probably had something to do with it – but because those words were so precious, and often used trivially. One must realize that to hear those words said to them in a single lifetime is breathtaking – never to be overlooked.

I blushed, in silent awe. I stood there ogling at him for minutes.

"Are you going to respond?" He wondered, smirking.

"H-how'd I get so lucky?" I was still a bit dazed.

"That's the very same question I ask myself," He breathed.

Mason kissed me one last time before hesitantly letting go and heading over to his Mercedes. He tossed his suitcase into the trunk before walking around to the driver's side door, already drenched in rain. He turned and waved; I had to hold onto the door handle for stability, otherwise I would've fainted flat on my face.

After climbing into his car, he started the engine and backed out. I lifted my hand, waving goodbye, but the rain was too heavy for him to decipher me. He zoomed off down the street, and I did not go back inside until after I saw his car disappear around the corner.

And then I was alone once more.

I stood absentmindedly alone on the porch long after Mason was gone as the rain grew heavier, pounding against the pavement like fists. I felt immaterial in this giant verdant wilderness. I had to morph out of that mindset where I would effortlessly walk back into the house and Mason would be waiting for me in the kitchen; I had to get in the mindset that he was gone – and I couldn't help but feel that he was gone for good.

Like a turtle retreating in its shell or the sun descending into the horizon, I slunk back into my isolation, awaiting dawn.


	6. Chapter 6

There was sunlight – everywhere.

I stood in a meadow. It was magically lit by the noontime sun, covered in the greenest, most luscious grass I'd ever seen. The field stretched quite a ways, but it was swallowed up by the forest's edge on all sides. Inside the woodlands, it was impossible to see; there was darkness, emptiness.

Looking down at myself, I noticed I looked fuller, healthier than normal. My skin wasn't as pale; it was more of a vigorous glow. I was wearing a plain white dress; not like a bridal gown, but more like a rumpled pillow case, covering till about an inch above my knees. My hair was flowing, not as dark and a bit longer than usual – I assumed all of this sunlight had made me brighter.

The grass was soft, swaying in the passing wind and tickling my ankles. A blue cloudless sky was above me, blanketing endlessly to the edges of the earth. The whole atmosphere was at peace – ultimately balanced; everything was at ease … beautifully perfect. But only one thing could make it better …

"Scarlett," His silky hymn of a voice wafted to me from some unknown direction, as if I'd called out to him.

I searched my surroundings, but I could not see him. "Where are you?"

There was no response for a long while; the only noise was the _whoosh_ of the wind. I continually turned, my eyes scanning every corner of the meadow, but I was never able to find him.

"Scarlett," He repeated, his voice a bit louder now, as if he'd moved closer.

"I can't see you," I responded, taking a step forward. I could feel the grass poking out between my toes, itching the bottom of my feet.

"I'm right here," Mason said, but, nonetheless, he was nowhere.

I tried not to panic – I needed to stay calm. However, I became perturbed, typically; I needed his face. I started walking at a steady pace in one direction, my eyes darting one way to the next.

"Not that way," There was a teasing edge to his voice, as if to say "_Where do you think you're going, silly?_"

"Then where?" I turned to face the opposite direction. When there was no response, I turned and walked back in the direction I'd come.

"Not that way," He repeated.

"Just come out!" I called to him, aggravated.

There was silence. I began to bake in the sunbeams, feeling terribly lost. Mason was nowhere to be seen in the meadow, but I had that inkling that he was there; I could feel his presence.

"Find me," There was a threatening edge to his voice now.

"I don't know where to look!" I complained, doing a complete 360° but still unable to see his face. "Please, come out!"

"Now, what fun would that be?" He asked lightheartedly.

I didn't find this fun at all; I felt unwell, distraught. Yet here was Mason, acting as if this were all some kind of game; that didn't seem like him.

But what if it wasn't?

No, it had to be him. Who else would it be? I would never mistake that voice for anyone else's. He was the one I loved, and without him I felt irrelevant, claustrophobic. I fell to my knees, tears threatening. The wind blew my hair into my face, blocking my eyes.

Minutes passed, and Mason didn't speak. I lay down on the grass, rolling onto my side, utterly hopeless. What seemed like hours passed by, but the sun never moved from it's highest peak in the sky. I considered yelling out to him, but he was probably long gone by now. He'd probably left, finally realizing how desperately bleak I was.

I knew something so perfect would never last with something so contrary. Besides, he didn't belong with me in Forks – if that's where I actually was right now. He probably retreated away with someone more beautiful, someone who deserved him more than I did.

I, however, belonged in Forks, whether I wanted to or not. I belonged in the small seclusion of that house of mine; I would waste my life away, writing my books and fantasizing up a life for all of my characters – a life that I wished was mine. It was then that I realized the only reason I wrote romances was because I wanted one. I could say that I didn't mind being alone as much as I pleased, but after I'd tasted love, I couldn't let it go.

Snapping me from my reverie, his voice finally returned. "Scarlett."

I sat up immediately, searching for his face. Nearby, by the forest's edge, I could see the outline of a human being, but I couldn't decipher any of their features. "Mason?"

"Are you crying?" His voice was indifferent, blank.

I reached up and wiped my cheeks, just then noticing that I'd been crying excessively. "Um, yes."

"Why?" His voice wafted to me from the obscurity.

I leaned forward, putting out my hands and resting them on the ground. Then I hoisted myself up childishly, like a baby standing up from their first fall. I watched the gloomy tree line, waiting for him to step out. I wanted him, I required him.

"Come out," I muttered, my voice calm but rather pleading.

He stepped back, slinking into the gloom.

"Don't go!" I shouted recklessly.

He froze, stepping back to where he was, where I could only see his outline. "Why shouldn't I?"

"I need you," I approached him, but when I noticed his hesitance, I stopped. "Please, don't leave me."

"Desperate," He mumbled quietly to himself.

"I am," I agreed.

He took another step closer to me, his shoe emerging into the sunlight. "Do you want me to come out?"

"Yes," I tried not to sound too eager.

"I'm not sure you want me," He refused, stepping back again.

"I want you with all my heart," I vowed. "I want to be with you forever."

There was a brief silence between us, nature being the only sound. "Are you sure I'm what you want?"

"Of course," I nodded, unable to take the trepidation much longer. It was killing me inside. "I love you."

Allowing my answer, he stepped forward, his shoe returning into view and then eventually the other. I ran forward, as fast as my legs could allow. I jumped onto him, pushing him back into the gloom. I put my lips on his, refusing to let go, but he seemed unwilling, reluctant.

"What's the matter …?" I asked, pulling away.

I stopped mid-sentence. His face was dark, guilty; upset with what he'd done. I stumbled backwards, speechless.

"I'm sorry," Nathaniel apologized.

"But I heard his voice!" I argued, stuttering. "That wasn't you talking … that was him! I heard his voice!"

"I'm sorry," Nathaniel repeated, stepping closer to me.

"I … I don't understand!" I stepped back, tripping over a root and slamming down onto the moist earth.

Nathaniel extended his hand to help me up. "I love you, far more than he ever will."

I whipped my hand away from his. "No!"

"Scarlett, don't be so rash," He instructed comfortingly.

Fuming, I stood and started to run deeper into the woods, trying to avoid trees and uprooted rocks.

Nathaniel's voice called out to me from behind, "Don't make me do this."

I looked back over my shoulder, unable to see him from where I was. What was he talking about? The rage subsided, and was replaced with fear. I needed to realize: I was extremely fragile, caught between two rocks, literally – Mason and Nathaniel were both exceptionally framed, muscular; one flick of the finger and I could shatter. Yet, I was treated as the upper hand; the prey was dominant over the two potential predators.

I turned a corner, optimistically running to an exit. Eventually, I saw light up ahead and, running to it, I felt instantly relieved; but when I finally reached the light, I was in the meadow again.

"I went full circle," I panted under my breath.

Abruptly, from behind me a low snarl boiled in the back of someone's throat. I spun around, seeing the same tousled wolf that had attacked Mason the other day; only, in this light, the beast looked bigger, much more formidable. It stepped forward, testing me. I could feel a scream surfacing. As if it smelt my fear, it lunged for me, claws extended and jagged teeth barred.

"No!" I shrieked, jerking to an upright position.

I was in my room now, alone. My whole body was soaked in sweat, utterly tremulous with fright. My eyes scanned the room anxiously, noting that everything was positively normal. Mason's suitcase was no longer in the corner by my dresser; it was probably in Philadelphia now, along with its owner. His laptop, however, still sat next to my elderly computer where it'd been when I went to sleep. I glimpsed over at my clock – five o'clock in the morning.

Knowing that it would be impossible for me to get back to sleep, I pushed back the covers and staggered out of bed, making my way to the bathroom. The house was colder than usual; my feet turned to ice as I shuffled across the hard wooden floor. In addition to that, the whole house seemed vivid with natural light.

Once I got to the bathroom, I peaked out the window and groaned.

Snow was everywhere, blanketing the backyard, blanketing the street and, worst of all, trapping my truck in the driveway. I hated driving in snow; it only increased the probability of slipping, which doubled the probability of crashing.

I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth and got dressed all in a matter of minutes. When I got down to the kitchen, my stomach growled deafeningly; it was then that I realized I'd completely skipped dinner last night. I swung open the fridge door, analyzing Mason's gourmet selection he'd set out for me. I noticed some of his pancakes sitting on the top shelf, just waiting to be devoured.

Resolutely, I pulled out the pancakes and threw them in the microwave, impatiently counting down the seconds. Abruptly, I noticed something I hadn't noticed before. I walked over to the microwave and ripped a sticky note off the door, reading:

_Be safe._

Awestruck, I stumbled over to the table. That was the exact same message Edward had sent to Bella once; Mason must've read the book – or he flipped through it and wrote this just to mess with me.

Snapping me out of my trance, the microwave's bell chimed, signaling my pancakes were finished.

After hastily stuffing the pancakes down my throat, I grabbed my coat and headed for the front door. As I pulled my arms through the armholes of my jacket, I glanced over at the living room, noticing that one of my massive photo albums was flipped open and left on the coffee table. I recalled yesterday, before Mason left, he'd told me he'd looked through some of my photo albums. Curiously, I walked over and examined the page.

I blushed.

The picture was a full page in size, very formal – extremely embarrassing, for me, that is. There I stood, makeup lazily applied and crazy curly hair streaming down to about three inches above my waist; my burgundy dress was slim until the waist, then it bulged elegantly down to the floor. I looked exhausted, edgy – or perhaps I was just nervous. Standing beside me was Mason, handsome as usual and stunningly refined; he was wearing a sleek black tuxedo, with a long skinny tie hanging about a half inch past his belt. His arm was wrapped around my waist, pulling me close to him as he smiled perfectly into the camera.

It was our junior prom.

Even then, Mason outdid me; I was just so … unadorned. And he, too remarkable for words. If only he were here – if I only I could see his dazzling face, just so I could feel the least bit of redemption. I considered calling him now, but it was probably two in the morning where he was.

What I would give to hear his voice …

No longer wishing to dwell on the past, I flipped the photo album shut and walked out of the room, tears welling up in my eyes.

I hated how emotional I was – sensitivity was definitely not something I lacked; and now with Mason gone, I had that uncertain feeling of instability. It seemed like each passing second was a trial – one false step and I would painfully fall flat on my face.

As the quiet patter of rain began to thump on the roof, I exhaled. Snow was never fun to drive in, and black ice was not any better. Reluctantly, I walked to the front door and headed out, realizing that I would probably be two hours early to work. For the first time in history, I would beat Coop to work.

I recalled the first time I met Coop – it was only two days after I arrived in Forks. I had come in to apply for a job at Forks Hospital, not wanting to waste any time at getting settled in. I was told to wait for Head Surgeon, Dr. Matthew Cooper, to return from an imperative surgical operation; after hearing that, I pictured Dr. Cooper as some successful, urbane and practiced doctor, top of his rank. Oh, what a shock it was when Coop turned that corner humming the theme to that NBC show, _the Office_, and taking pictures of himself with his camera phone.

Undeniably, Coop had wasted no time in signing me up for a job and asking me out on a date that night. It was a total fail for him, just because I said I wasn't the type of girl to sleep with a guy on the first date; but that was the day our relationship as friends flourished – now, we considered ourselves best friends. We were good for each other, too. His reviving wittiness and my natural reticence surprisingly blended well together. I didn't know what I would do without him.

I must've been too deep in thought to pay attention to my footing; on about the third step to the ground, I slipped and slid down the front steps, skinning my hands in the process. Humiliated, I stood, scanning my setting to see if any one had witnessed my exceptionally unmindful stunt. I swiftly shuffled to my car, ignoring the blood on my hands and simply wiping it off onto my jacket.

The arctic temperature was unbearable today, penetrating through my jacket effortlessly. I shivered as I hopped into the cab of my truck, freezing. I drove without the radio, my mind blank and idly wandering on trivial things of no importance; I tried to keep my brain away from thoughts of Mason – otherwise, I would malevolently break into tears for sure.

As I drove along the frosty roads, I could feel my massive monster shift and skid on the ice from time to time, but it wasn't anything fatal. Finally, I reached the hospital unscathed; it felt strange turning into an empty lot – the majority of the building wouldn't start showing up for another hour or two, I assumed.

I pulled my key out of the ignition and wrapped my coat tighter around me before hopping out of my truck. I quickly dashed for the door, longing for warmth. Nevertheless – just my luck – the front door was locked; fortunately, I knew of a back door that was always unlocked for the garbage men to make their daily rounds throughout the building. I walked to the end of the sidewalk and then off onto the grass, making my way to the opposite end of the hospital.

To my left was the giant pale blue structure, skillfully constructed and elderly in appearance. To my right was the dense forest, cluttered with various types of vegetation. I walked along the narrow overgrown path between the two, my legs locking up with each passing second – it had to have dropped at least thirty degrees since yesterday afternoon, the last time I'd been outside.

The last time I'd seen Mason.

Mason's face flickered before my mind and vanished milliseconds later, but that was just enough to make me hysteric. Tears began to trickle down my cheeks, the sobs taking up most of my spare air; I was afraid my tears would freeze to ice – one could never know when the conditions were as abusive as this. Something I had always been good at was over exaggeration. The smallest of situations could give me a panic attack, I was sure.

Breaking me out of my hysteria, I heard a crumple of leaves behind me.

Whirling towards the woods, my eyes searched the shadowy forest edge. I stood there for probably ten minutes, guessing that any minute something would pop out and attack me. My mind retreated to last night's dream: the wolf about to pounce, Nathaniel's unexpected devotion to me, and the whole … surrealistic feel about the delusion. The beginning felt like a dream, but it had slowly drifted into an all-too-real nightmare. Everything felt so corporeal; I could feel the brush of the wind on my skin, I could taste Mason's succulent voice wafting through the air, and I could see the fear in front of my eyes when that wolf approached me.

Overall, though, the emotion that was most tangible … was my rage. How could Nathaniel even consider mentioning such a mad statement: _I love you, far more than he ever will_? I couldn't think of Nathaniel that way; since I'd first met him, I was stuck in that state of mind that he would make an excellent friend, but never a good _boy_friend. That thought had just never occurred to me.

But it was all just a dream, right?

After standing there and staring into the woods for an eerily long time, I cautiously made my way to the back of the building, trying to keep my footing. Once I made it through the backdoor, I hurriedly stepped inside; the heat reached me instantly, soaking me in warmth – it was revitalizing.

I went up the stairs unhurriedly, my body still adjusting to the drastic temperature change. My footsteps echoed throughout the stairwell, giving me that tentative feeling of solitude. Upon reaching the 2nd floor landing, I pushed open the main door. It creaked open ominously, revealing an unlit and rather spooky emergency room. I had never been a fan of horror films – now it felt like I was in one. I shuffled over to my desk, flipping on the light; instantly, the room was luminous and bright, practically blinding.

Sitting down at my desk, I began to just mull everything over.

My life had so dramatically changed in the past week. First of all, Nathaniel had come into my life – to be honest, I was afraid that his longing for more than friendship would make this a melodramatic love triangle. On the other side of this was Mason, who had swooped down like a miraculous Prince Charming, taking me into him almost instantly. I found it rather ironic – comedic almost – that a few days ago, I was alone and now I had caught the attention of two extremely dazzling people.

What was so captivating about me, I may never know.

But there was an unnerving sensation of qualm in the pit of my stomach; I just didn't want this to become too ridiculous. I'd seen those shows and movies before – _Twilight_ was a perfect example – where the girl is in the spotlight of two guys who would do just about anything for her; but the thing is, there is so much to love in the both of them.

The moment I would come to dread the most is that final judgment day.

The last thing I wanted to do was choose between the two, which is why I wanted to prevent a love triangle in the first place. Mason had captured my heart, and it had previously been his for a long time. Nathaniel, whom I just met … well, it was too soon to tell for him. Maybe, if I skipped that step of getting to know him, we could just avoid a relationship altogether … if that's what it took.

"Looks like you beat me this time," a voice made me jolt.

My eyes snapped up to the stairwell door, only to see Coop standing in the doorway. He had a charming smile on his face and he was skillfully balancing a couple cardboard boxes in his hands. What caught my attention the most was that he was in casual dress; we did have work today, didn't we?

"What are you wearing?" I wondered.

"Oh," Coop walked up to my desk and set the boxes on the counter. "I guess you didn't get my message. We're going to be off for the next few weeks."

"You're joking," I laughed at myself. If only he'd told me this yesterday, I could've been in Philadelphia with Mason right now. "Perfect."

"What's the matter?" He asked with an indefinite smile on his face.

"Nothing," I shook my head. "It just looks like I'm going to be sulking around doing nothing for a whole three weeks."

"Well, you have Mason to keep your attention, don't you?" He chuckled.

"No," I sighed. "Mason's in Pennsylvania for a three week funeral. And I'd been counting on the hospital to pass my wasted time, but now it looks like I'll just sit on my couch doing nothing but watching _Twilight_ over and over again." I finished my rambling.

Coop surprised me by laughing. "You know, Scarlett, I have never met someone so impractical … so dependent on other human life to survive."

"What do you expect?" I frowned. "Every girl dreams of the perfect boy coming along someday. Turns out, I had my perfect boy, then broke up with him in high school. Then he leaves me hanging till I'm twenty-seven, comes back, makes me fall in love with him, and then runs off again."

"You really think that Mason's the perfect boy?" He grinned, amused.

"Of course," I nodded. "I mean, he's no Edward Cullen, but …."

Coop laughed, "No, he's no Edward Cullen. But I think he'll take care of you, and that's why I like him."

"Well, I'm glad you approve," I rolled my eyes.

"So," Coop said, going through one of the boxes. "What are you doing here so early anyway?"

I simpered, a bit embarrassed. "I had a rough night."

"How long have you been here?" He wondered absentmindedly.

"Since about 5:30," I admitted. "So not that long."

"Not that long? Have you checked a clock recently?" He smirked. "That had to be almost four hours ago."

"Really?" My eyes widened as he pulled out his cellphone and showed me the time: ten o'clock. "Well, I guess, you know what they say. Time flies when you're having _no_ fun."

"Gosh," Coop guffawed, obviously amused by me. "You're like virus, sulking around from one place to another and sucking the life out of everything."

"Thank you for that," I said, bitingly sarcastic.

"C'mon," He picked up the boxes. "Pick up your stuff. I just have to drop these off in my office and then I can walk you out."

"Okay," I allowed.

I grabbed my coat and followed Coop to his office in the far back of the building. Juggling the boxes in one hand and unlocking his door with the other, Coop pushed open the wooden door into his office.

His office was quite large – enough room to fit a massive wooden desk and a leather chair behind it. He had floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on the two side walls and a windowed wall facing you as you walked in. The shelves were full of a various collection of medical works, a bunch of awards and diplomas, but most noticeably his array of framed photos. He didn't have many photos that revealed his wild side; only in one picture taken at a birthday party at Krista's, his eyes were wide and his face vividly bright, revealing his more rambunctious behavior. Otherwise, he was either shaking the hand of some chief protégé or at an exclusive revelry that only the best were invited to.

The room definitely praised the polished side of Dr. Cooper.

"Lemme just put these here," Coop placed the boxes on his desk and then turned to take a pen out of one of the drawers. "And then we can be on our way."

"What's in the boxes?" I wondered.

"Just a bunch of old junk that I found at my place," he answered. "I'm gonna ship it back to my parents in Chicago."

"Oh," I nodded, walking over to his bookshelf as he scribbled an address on one of the boxes' lids. I scanned the shelves with my eyes, noting all the literary classics that were sprinkled on the shelves. Reaching forward, I pulled _The Merchant in Venice _off the shelf.

"Shakespeare," I nodded approvingly. "Nice."

"What?" He looked up at me, noticing what was in my hand. "Oh, that. Yeah, well, I try to grace myself with as much variety as possible."

I smiled, standing up on my tiptoes to put the book back. However, I noticed something that was hiding behind a massive dictionary. I set _The Merchant in Venice_ on one of the ledges and reached up to grab whatever was hiding.

It was a picture.

In it, a younger Coop was standing there, a wide smile on his face, with his arm around a girl approximately in her mid-teens. She was beautiful – she had long wavy auburn hair, with a relatively tan complexion. She had gorgeous green eyes with a tint of golden brown in them, which seemed to be staring right at you from out of the picture. The two stood on a wooden bench, the ocean visible behind them; in their hands were cones of vanilla ice cream – altogether, the scene was a charming one.

Yet, the most striking part was Coop's genuine smile as he stared lovingly at the girl. She, however, took no notice and just stared happily into the camera.

"Who is this?" I wondered aloud.

As soon as Coop saw what was in my hand, he stepped forward and snatched the picture from my grasp. "That's no one."

"You seem happy together. Did you like her?" I ignored his sour tone.

"No, I didn't," He shook his head, his eyes avoiding the picture at all costs.

"I don't believe that," I refused. "I mean, look at the way you're looking at her. It's obvious you liked being with her."

"Scarlett, I didn't like her at all," he exhaled, kicking his trashcan out from under his desk with his foot and carelessly dropping the photo into it. "See? She means nothing to me."

"If you say so," I giggled as Coop rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, let's go," Coop sighed, holding open the door for me to walk out first. "Really, she meant nothing."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" I grinned, slipping my arms into my jacket and zipping it up.

"Ugh," He exhaled jokingly. "Stop being difficult."

Coop followed me back out to the waiting room and, as we made our way to the elevator, I noticed a certain tint of sadness in Coop's eyes. I would've mentioned it, but I could tell by the way he'd reacted to that picture in his office, I shouldn't. Instead, I tried lightening his spirits.

"So, hey," I brought his attention to me. "With all this time off, would you wanna come over my place and watch _Breaking Dawn_?"

"Is that …?" He looked at me with amused eyes.

"_Twilight_," I nodded.

Coop rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, because that's what I want to do on my time off – spend it watching a total chick flick with a girl who's taken."

"Are you saying you're interested in me?" I chuckled, pressing the ground floor button as we hopped onto the elevator.

"Ha, no way," He laughed. "Even I know better than to pounce on a girl who's already claimed, especially when you're dating a guy like Mason."

"A guy like Mason?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Have you seen that guy? He's damn huge!" He mused, letting me step out of the elevator before him courteously.

I stared down at my feet. "Yeah, I guess he is pretty muscular."

Coop grew sentimental for a moment. "You seem upset … why?"

"Well, I just miss him, you know?" I sighed as we stepped out the front door. The cold seeped into me immediately, penetrating through my jacket with ease; at least it wasn't as cold as this morning. "Have you ever loved someone and then are forced to be without them … even if it isn't for forever?"

"No, I can't say I know how that feels," He stuffed his hands in his pockets – I could see his breath in the air. "I've been with a lot of girls, but none that I was really in _love_ with, I guess." He began to walk over to his car and I began to head towards mine.

I watched Coop carefully, noticing his despaired look as he checked his hair in the driver's side window. "Hey," I called.

Immediately, his head snapped up to look at me.

"You'll find love eventually," I smiled. "I know it."

"Yeah, but I'm just afraid _I _won't know it," he shrugged, his expression saying that this was all just a joke to him; but I could tell by his eyes that he was actually taking what I said into account.

"You'll know it," I reassured him. "You'll know that she's not just some fling – you'll know she's the real deal."

He laughed unreservedly. "Hey, maybe my high school girlfriend will pull up in an expensive ride and steal my heart away."

"Don't tease," I scolded playfully, putting my hand on my truck's door handle. Coop smiled, pulling open his car door and getting ready to climb in, but I still had one last question to ask. "Hey, wait!"

He stood back up, looking at me expectantly.

"Why do we have off today, anyway?" I wondered.

"Aren't you friends with that cop guy? Didn't he tell you?" Coop exhaled, looking at me with wary eyes. "They got this huge missing person's report the other night. The whole town's pretty staggered considering how involved they are …"

"How involved who is?" I wondered, inadvertently interrupting him.

"Krista Elliot's family," He answered. "I really feel bad for them."

"Wait," I was confused. "What does Krista have to do with any of this?"

"Well, didn't you hear?" He sighed, getting into his car. Coop backed out of his parking spot and pulling up in front of me. He rolled down his window, and leaned out to continue talking to me. "Her son's been missing since about noon yesterday … along with this other girl, but I didn't pay much attention to her story. They left without a trace …" Coop continued to speak but I didn't process anything else he said.

I couldn't believe Asher took my advice.

But the thing that was even more unbelievable to me was that he chose _that_ option. Didn't he realize what was at risk? He wouldn't be able to go to college, which only dampened his opportunity at a good job. How would he be able to support his new family? And what about Gabrielle? She would become a full-time mom; I was sure she had expectations of her own, none of which included becoming a teenage mother.

"How could he be so stupid?" I blurted, enraged.

"What are you talking about?" Coop raised an eyebrow.

"Oh," I'd forgotten he was there. "Nothing. I'll call you about that movie night, Coop."

"Okay, see you later," Coop nodded unsurely. "And, um, don't do anything dumb if Mason's not around."

"Alright," I agreed, as Coop began to drive out of the lot and down the street until he zoomed out of my sight.


	7. Chapter 7

_**I apologize profusely for the delay. My friend is moving to Colorado on Tuesday and this is the last weekend I have with her. I shall never fail you again. I PROMISE.**_

I tried to waste as much time on the road as I could.

Even though it gave me too much time to mull things over.

Typically, I was overridden with guilt; Asher never would've left Forks if I hadn't suggested it. Now, Krista was heartbroken, possibly emotionally staggered for the rest of her life, and, worst of all, I knew for a fact Krista would probably be blaming herself – she would accuse herself of lame parenting and utter self-doubt. I wished more than anything that I could go to her and tell her it was my entire fault; I wished I could go and tell her everything.

However, I'd vowed to stay true to the promise I'd made with myself: I wouldn't tell anyone anything unless instructed by Asher; and now with Asher gone – I doubted I'd ever see him again – I guess, I would be keeping this secret for the rest of my life.

Would I be able to last that long?

Keeping such a secret from my best friend would be difficult, and I knew it; so maybe the most I could do would be to forget about the whole ordeal.

As I pulled into my driveway, I exhaled. Sitting around for a whole three weeks by myself would be unhealthy for sure. Of course I'd been alone for almost eight months without Lilli, but now was a whole different situation. I didn't have work to occupy my attention, so I knew boredom was inevitable. Moreover, I realized Mason's absence would make the time alone all the more insufferable.

I hopped out of my truck, ignoring the freezing drizzle overhead. I walked listlessly, my energy level depleting with every wasted moment.

The warmth of the indoors was convivial to some extent.

After tossing my jacket in the direction of the living room and missing my target – the couch's arm – by about three feet, I carelessly shuffled into the kitchen, immediately slouching against the counter and watching the rainfall.

I wondered what Mason was doing right about now. He was probably with his parents, taking care of his mother. Oh, how I wished I could be with him; I longed for him to realize he didn't have to do any of this alone – I was here for him, and I planned to be forever. Yet, like most guys, he wanted to do things by himself.

To prove his vigor, no doubt.

All guys were the same, wanting to show the world how strong they were, and Mason was no exception. However, I knew that every male who tried their hardest to attest their dexterity was just a jumbled mess inside. I'd learned as I raised the characters in my books that everyone is the same – longing to prove themselves, and always assuming they fall short.

I hoped everyone'd just shut up, and get on with the good in their lives.

Shaking my head, I knew that I had to interrupt my deeply radical and ridiculous thoughts before I got too enthusiastic of my viewpoints. I reached into the fridge, grabbed a random container and popped it into the microwave. As the welcoming smell of food filled the atmosphere, I sauntered into the living room, flipping on the television.

I decided to give my _Twilight_ DVDs a rest – they'd become so overused, more than any other of the DVDs I owned. Instead, I aimlessly scanned through the channels, eventually so bored that I just kept my index finger pressed on the down button. I watched the pictures flash before my eyes, nothing really catching my interest.

The beep of the microwave reverberated to me from the kitchen and I let go of the remote, dropping it onto sofa. I walked back to the kitchen, pulling Mason's home-made chicken potpie out of the microwave. I dipped a spoon into the container and made my way back to the living room.

I plopped myself down onto the couch, discovering what channel I had stopped on: it was a detailed documentary on Shakespeare – more specifically, _Romeo & Juliet_.

Laughing at myself, I found it no coincidence that I was unconsciously yet desperately aching for love.

"The whole concept of love is apparent in a human's natural curiosity," A historian with bulbous glasses and a bad perm commented. "Just as Romeo and Juliet find love, we long, as an impenetrable need, for affection."

A couple pictures of popular depictions of _Romeo & Juliet_ flashed onto the screen, including a couple scenes from the ever-admired Zeffirelli's movie of '68, which I had seen once back in high school.

"_Romeo & Juliet_ is a masterpiece," A different commentator stated. "Still today, it is mentioned in countless works as a romance icon."

I raised an eyebrow, picking up a spoonful of potpie and stuffing it into my mouth. Oh, what an accomplishment that would be – to have one of my stories cherished and remembered as a romance icon.

"It's rather paradoxical that, even back in Shakespeare's day, love triangles were prominent – as they are today," A young woman with glasses appeared onto the screen. "Of course, Romeo and Juliet are legendary names, but we mustn't forget Paris, who had planned to marry Juliet as well. In sitcoms and TV shows today, we still see love triangles popping up. However, Shakespeare can rightly say, he came up with the idea first."

_They fight; Paris falls_.Even the _Twilight_ world embraced _Romeo & Juliet_ – even Stephenie Meyer recognized the intimate beauty that Shakespeare's tour de force depicted.

Then the face of Romeo appeared once again, reciting the commended line from the suicide scene. "Arms, take your last embrace, and lips, oh you, the doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss. Here's to my love!" Romeo raised the cup to his lips, taking a sip of the poisoned drink.

"How witty," I exhaled, taking another bite of potpie.

"Obviously, the passion Romeo feels for Juliet is unassailable," another analyst said. "Their willingness to die for one another is simply astonishing."

I let out a low laugh.

Evidently, none of these commentators had been in love before; instead, they decided to intensely scrutinize someone else's adoration for another being. Find any two people who care deeply for each other and they would, unfalteringly, do the same thing Romeo and Juliet did. There was no way to study love with science; it was indescribable. Then again, what did I know? I exhausted the idea of love by tediously decoding it through my stories, so I guess I was not the person to judge.

I continued to watch the documentary until it ended. Then, engrossed, I pulled _Romeo & Juliet _off my bookshelf and read until darkness overwhelmed all light outside. However, I hardly paid much attention to what I was reading – none of the words were processed in my brain, the plot that I'd read innumerable times was unable to enthrall me, not in my current state of mind, at least.

So, around seven o'clock, I set the book down and went into the kitchen, flipping on my iPod dock as soon as I was in the room. An upbeat alternative song blasted silkily from the speakers, reminding me how much the classical side of me had taken over the more rebellious side since I moved to Forks – rock had been something that had been a key part of my childhood, especially when I converted from childhood to my teenage years.

The band was one I hadn't heard in a long while; it brought back so many memories of my old friends, especially Karolina Rivera, who had introduced me to the band in the later months of our eighth grade years. Ever since, they'd been my solution to difficulties, helping me bury away from society.

As the guitar solo began to filter from the speakers, I reached into the fridge, pulling out my dinner. I became fearful that my Mason-less days would be tainted with eating too much and wallowing in misery on the couch. After swiftly heating up my dinner and stuffing it down my throat, I went to bed earlier than I ever had since I'd arrived in Forks, earlier than I had since kindergarten.

I climbed into bed around 7:30 and fell asleep seconds later.

The same dream that had haunted my mind last night repeated itself, and it was no less frightening the second time. It began the same way, as I basked myself in the meadow; the bulk of it was the identical as well, as I helplessly searched the meadow for Mason; it continued on, as my lips connected with Nathaniel's and as I then shamefully backed away; it finished unchanged too, ending with the single image of extended claws inches away from my face.

Immediately, I jerked awake, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat.

My eyes darted to the clock, noting the ungodly hour: four o'clock in the morning. Surprisingly, I was furious with myself.

I'd gone back, encountering the same situation again, but yet I had done nothing to change the turn of events. I still kissed Nathaniel, no holds barred, believing it was Mason without a doubt in my mind. Why did I not react? Why did I continue to kiss him even though I knew the end of the story?

Or perhaps, this wasn't something I could change – perhaps it was something I would be forced to witness cyclically.

Too freezing to emerge from my haven under the covers, I remained lying in bed awake for immeasurably protracted hours. The mere thought of Mason sent me to tears, leaving my sobs and the rain to consume the silence. The wind grew as restless as I was, shaking my house all the way down to the foundation, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fall back asleep.

Once it grew lighter outside, I eagerly jumped out of bed, tired of doing nothing. I ignored my clock, deciding that time would be irrelevant in these passing weeks. I would simply wake up when it was light, eat when I was hungry, and go to bed when I was tired.

I made my way to the bathroom, practically recoiling away from my own reflection when I got there. The bags under my eyes were definite and gloomy, and my hair was a tangled mess. I wearily got into the shower, not to wash away my ominous appearance, but mainly to cool down; the shower was frigid, and I pushed myself not to turn up the hot water – not even I knew what I was trying to accomplish by this pointless self-training.

Perhaps it was to toughen up, not to be such a baby about everything.

After my cold shower, I stumbled out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, snatching the first shirt I saw out of my closet and pulling it over my head. Once dressed, I made my way down the steps and into the kitchen, my eye catching the time on the microwave: six o'clock in the morning.

What was I going to do all day?

I skipped breakfast, and walked into the living room, dragging my feet. I pulled _Eclipse_ off my bookshelf, opened it to a random page and sat down on the sofa, ready to read to my heart's content. However, there was something out of balance about my house, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I lifted my head out of my book, and glanced at the front door.

There was _no_ _rain_.

What a rare spectacle was laid out before me. Naturally, I tried to second guess myself; there had to be snow on the ground, or maybe God's water ducts went dry for a couple seconds. Any minute now, I predicted the pounding rain to take its rightful place over Forks.

… But it never came.

I shook my head, picking up the remote to my stereo, counting on it to make up for the lack of background noise. A soft acoustic guitar wafted from the speakers, peacefully filling up this empty house. No longer at unease, I went back to my book and continued to read.

A couple of hours later, I got too hungry to sustain myself, so I stood and entered the kitchen, investigating my fridge for the next gourmet meal Mason had so skillfully created. I reached in, pulled out some baked ziti, threw it into the microwave, and then headed back to the living room. I turned up my stereo and then continued to read, waiting for the microwave to chime. But instead of what I expected, a different bell summoned me.

It was the front door.

I couldn't help but feel delighted; at last I would see another living, breathing human being – a sight I hadn't been able to lay eyes on in the longest time … or so it felt. I reached for the door handle and pulled it open, rather surprised to see who was there waiting for me.

"Hey," Nathaniel smiled.

I blacked out for a moment, a bit staggered. The only picture in front of my eyes was the dream, Nathaniel's self-assured face as he muttered the words I had come to despise. "_I love you, far more than he ever will_."

"Scarlett, are you okay?" He snapped my attention back to him.

"Oh, hey, Nathaniel," I shook the nightmare out of my head for now. "Do you want to come in?"

"Why thank you," He smiled, reminding me of his jocular disposition.

Nathaniel stepped into the foyer, towering over me by at least foot and a half. I craned my neck to look up at him. "You're really tall. I never noticed."

"Yeah, it runs in the family," He shrugged. "The 'freakish Redborn curse'."

"It's not freakish," I denied as we entered the kitchen. By then, my microwave lunch was finished. "I used to be really tall in grade school, too, but then I kind of lost a couple inches."

"Aw," Nathaniel laughed. "You shrunk."

"Yes, well," I sighed, grabbing my meal. "So why'd you come over?"

He cleared his throat before responding. "Well, have you noticed the lack of rain?"

"Uh-huh," I nodded. "It's so weird. Paranormal, almost."

"Well, we wanted to try to take advantage of the good weather" – it made me laugh out loud that, despite the thick cloud cover and frigid temperature, this was considered _good weather_ for the good people of Forks and the Quileute nation, alike – "and go surfing. And I thought you might want to come."

"I don't know …" I hesitated.

"And by 'might want to'," He smiled at me teasingly. "I mean you have to."

My eyebrows furrowed. "And why do I _have_ to go?"

He exhaled, sitting into one of the chairs that were tucked under the kitchen table. "You owe me that much after leaving me in the rain."

I knew he was right; I did owe him at least a day of my attention. "Alright."

"Don't you have to ask Mason first?" He sputtered the name with disgust.

I ignored the distaste in his throat, and focused all of my energy to push back the tears. "No, Mason's not here."

"Why isn't he here?" Nathaniel instantly stood, walking over to me.

"He is gone …" I began, but I could not finish. Not because I was emotionally incapable, but because Nathaniel had wrapped me in a loving hug, nearly suffocating me.

Nathaniel smelled a lot like spearmint, with a silent hint of tobacco. His whole mystique reeked of motor oil and salt water. Normally, all of these scents would make horrible companions. On Nathaniel, however, it described him perfectly; I couldn't have imagined a better aroma to match his personality.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Nathaniel asked worriedly, pulling away.

"I'm a bit mystified by your whole physique," I shrugged. "But besides that I should be fine."

"Well, I'm real sorry about Mason," He exhaled. "I knew it as soon as I met him that he wouldn't be the right guy for you."

"Wait, what?" I stepped back.

"Maybe surfing will be a good thing for you," Nathaniel decided. "It'll get your mind off of everything."

"No, Nathaniel, you've got it all mixed up," I shook my head, following him out into the foyer. He grabbed my coat and handed it to me. "Mason and I …"

He interrupted. "Breakups are hard, and I know it. So the best way to get your mind off things is to go hang out with some friends … and the worst thing you can do is sit around all day feeling guilty."

"I don't feel guilty!" I countered. "Nathaniel, you don't understand …"

"Scarlett, I only want what's best for you," He admitted. "And besides, I think that you should at least try to get to know me before you decide to push me away."

I exhaled.

Nathaniel had two adorable puppy-dog eyes. He was unintentionally pouting – he probably didn't even have to try. He already had that endearing face that was just impossible to say no to, no effort necessary.

"Fine," I slipped my arms through my jacket. "But there is no way you can make me get on a surfboard. _No_ _way_."

"Okay, okay," He laughed, opening the front door for me to exit. I could see the light in his eyes – had he expected me to refuse? Probably.

"So," I looked over at him as he helped me down the slippery steps. "You will be okay surfing alone, right?"

"I won't be alone," He denied, unlocking the doors to a ratty old Ford – it reminded me too much of the 1990's. "A bunch of my friends are already catching the swells."

"You think they'll like me?" I stared down at my feet nervously.

"You should be fine," He replied, smiling widely.

Nathaniel climbed in the front seat after helping me into the passenger side. As he drove, I noted how hesitant he was to look at me. We drove in silence for at least five minutes before I couldn't take it anymore; I'd been in silence too long to pass up a chance such as this: talking to someone other than myself.

"How's it going with the Asher Elliot case?" I wondered randomly, just to get him chatting.

"How'd you know about that?" He raised an eyebrow, curious.

"The whole town's been pretty much shut down since the report was submitted," I answered. "Do you have any ideas where he is?"

"Well, it's all quite confidential – I'm not really supposed to, you know, tell people," he refused, tightening his grip on the wheel.

I glanced out the window and then back at him. "I'm good friends with Mrs. Elliot. And it's not like I'll tell anybody anything. Besides, you can trust me."

Nathaniel exhaled. "The kid would make a great escape artist, that's for sure. He left without a trace – it's amazing."

"You think you'll find him?" I wondered.

"We probably will," Nathaniel seemed confident. "I mean, c'mon, he's a teenager. How far can he run?"

I said nothing.

"But when we do find him," Nathaniel continued, eyes growing dark. "He'll be in cuffs, I expect."

"What!" I had not been anticipating that. "Don't arrest him!"

"Scarlett," He frowned, incredulous of me. "He kidnapped this girl along with him. I have no idea how far he's willing to go …"

"She's not …" I began, but I stopped myself. I would be telling too much; but maybe I should tell – if charges would be pressed. However, I decided to keep my mouth shut, for Asher sake. I'd always been good at slips of the tongue.

"She's not what?" Nathaniel glimpsed over at me as we crossed the Forks borderline into La Push.

I improvised, "She must be so scared."

"Oh, without a doubt," Nathaniel agreed. "And I'd gotten the notion that Asher was a good kid …." His voice trailed off into the silence.

"He is," I stated. "I think he wouldn't have left without good reason."

"Scarlett," he took a long moment before continuing. "I wish I could think the better of people, but it's my job to assume the worst. If you actually begin to dig up every possibility, you can't help but imagine every crime this kid is capable of committing – I mean, where's he gonna get money? He's probably going to steal it. How's going to get far enough away? He'll probably steal a car."

I shook my head in disbelief, disagreeing.

He caught my skepticism. "Listen, I don't know this kid very well, but I bet if he had a reason to run, he'll do whatever it takes to get to where he's going."

"I just can't imagine Asher doing any of those things," I glanced out the window, avoiding Nathaniel's gaze. "It's rather revolting, actually."

"Oh, I agree," Nathaniel nodded. "Crime's a revolting thing."

"What do you think will happen to Asher once you find him?" I asked, hesitant to hear the answer. "After the arrest, I mean." I gulped after the word 'arrest,' not wanting to even picture it.

"Well, he'll go to trial, and depending on the verdict," Nathaniel answered. "We'll let him go or …."

I raised an eyebrow. "You'll let him go or …?"

"He'll probably go to jail," Nathaniel sighed. "Depending on how many crimes he's committed since he fled."

I winced, unable to discuss Asher's fate so openly. "So, how much longer to your house?"

Nathaniel chuckled. "Eager to change the subject?"

"Very much so, yes," I nodded, locking my eyes on the road.

"I'm sorry if talking about that makes you uncomfortable," Nathaniel frowned. "But that's life."

"I know that's life – I understand the way everything works," I stared at the endless double yellow lines in the center of the road. "But I can't process the context; I don't want to visualize any of that happening to Asher. They're my friends."

"Oh," Nathaniel simpered. "Sorry for going to detail, then."

"It's not your fault," I disagreed. "You don't need to apologize."

Nathaniel smiled over at me, apparent contentment in his eyes. "We're almost there. I bet my friends will love to meet you." I was glad he'd changed the subject – the conversation had gone from blithe to grim too quickly.

"I don't like meeting new people," I confessed, nervous.

"Relax, my friends are really laid back," He grinned, and then his smile faded. "And really embarrassing."

I giggled as Nathaniel began scowl at the mere thoughts of his friends.

"Don't listen if they mention prom," He pleaded. "It's all lies."

"Okay," I laughed as we passed a sign that read No Vampires Beyond This Point in all capital letters – in an area as small as this, it was expected that it would be proud of its sudden claim to fame; I immediately became curious. "So, do you have friends who are werewolves?"

Nathaniel laughed openly. "Like I haven't heard _that_ one before."

"I'm going to take that as a no," I looked over at his joyous face.

"No," He grinned, still clearly amused. "Well, most of the legends are right; we are supposedly descendents of wolves, but there are no dogs or werewolves or shape-shifters on the Rez."

"Aw," I pouted. "Wait, does that still mean that your tribe made a treaty with vampires?"

He snickered again, driving right up to the water and parking on the sand. "Vampires are mentioned as 'the Cold Ones' in our history, but the vamps you're thinking of don't exist – sorry, sweetheart."

I unbuckled. "So, you're saying … ergo the treaty doesn't exist either."

"None of it does," Nathaniel grinned. "It's just a story."

"Well," I shrugged dramatically as he unbuckled also. "There go all my hopes and dreams."

He looked taken aback. "Please tell me you're being sarcastic."

"Yes," I nodded as he exhaled thankfully. Just as any _Twilight_ enthusiast, I would never admit to my devotion; in truth, doesn't every girl want Edward Cullen to come along and bite her? Of course.

Nathaniel climbed out of the car.

It had been awhile since I'd last been to First Beach – I think the last time I'd stepped foot in these waters, I was with Lilli. However, despite the fact that I'd been here before, the whole atmosphere never failed to amaze me.

The waves were an ominous navy, black almost, stretching out and emptying into the horizon. White sand covered the shore for about half a mile before it cut off and let the infamous cliffs take over on both the right and the left. Oh, what a sight, the cliffs – masterpieces of the earth they were, rigid and looming over the crashing waves. Various types of stone were jaggedly stacked on top of each other, towering to a good few hundred feet, if not more than that … as a matter of fact I was almost sure it was taller than that.

Taller than a fifteen-story building at least.

The top of these colossal cliffs were blanketed by the Pacific Northwest woodlands, practically consuming these monstrous crags from the top ledge and then creeping down the side like a black snake. Against the pale background the sky presented, the whole picture was particularly picturesque.

Nathaniel and I walked along the sand, approaching the only group of vans huddled by the waters edge. Two vans created a circle around a center fire pit, which was aflame with a stunning driftwood fire. Only two people sat in one of the vans by the fire; the rest ventured out into the freezing water, brave enough to risk hypothermia just for the thrill of catching a wave.

"Hey, guys," Nathaniel greeted the two in the van as we came upon them.

They looked up at us from a magazine, friendly smiles on their faces. One was a girl, with straight black hair that framed her heart-shaped face. She had flawless tan skin, something I immediately envied. Along with all of those features, her soft brown eyes just added to her whole beautiful figure. Sitting beside her in the van was a boy in a wetsuit, very young by the look of it – probably around the age of fifteen. His features were as charming as the girl's, with the same adorable brown eyes and russet skin. He had wavy dark hair that flopped down over his forehead; he was continually pushing it out of his eyes.

Both of them were dressed according to the weather: knit hats on their heads and heavy jackets around them. Below freezing was even more of a risk down in La Push than it was in Forks, being so close to the water.

The boy stood, glancing at me questioningly only for a moment before turning back to Nathaniel. "Nate, c'mon, I've been waiting for you. I'd like to catch these swells before they're gone, if you don't mind."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Nathaniel reassured him. "Lemme just get changed and then I'll meet you out there."

"'Kay," the boy agreed, slipping off his heavy coat and grabbing a surfboard out of the van that he hadn't been sitting in. Without another word, he ran out to the sea, jumping in without a second thought.

My eyes remained locked on the boy before he ducked out of sight and under a wave. Then, I examined the rest of the natives above water, noticing the amount of patrons to the beach were very limited; besides the boy that had just ran out, there were only a maximum of about three others surfing.

"And who is this?" The girl broke my concentration.

I hadn't noticed Nathaniel had left my side and begun digging through a van for an available wetsuit. He rubbed his palms together uncomfortably. "This is Scarlett. She lives up in Forks."

The girl smiled at me politely. "Hi, I'm Robyn."

"Hi," I greeted nervously, shaking her extended hand.

"Have I seen you before?" she raised an eyebrow, pondering. After a few blank seconds, her eyes brightened comprehendingly. "I think I saw you awhile ago, sitting up there on the cliffside with some other girl."

"That was probably me and my roommate," I confirmed. "But that was almost a year ago. How could you remember that?"

"My little brother saw you," Robyn replied. "Ever since he's been talking about some pale girl with long curly brown hair that he's been just dying to meet," – she appraised me briefly – "I guess you fit that persona."

I simpered embarrassedly. "Really?"

"Yeah," She nodded, grinning. "I think he has sort of a crush on you."

"Well, he can keep dreaming," Nathaniel laughed, already changed into his wetsuit and just now grabbing his board. "I'm paddling out. Robyn, can you keep Scarlett company?"

"Sure thing," she complied, opening up the passenger door of the van she'd been sitting in and hopping in. She dangled her legs outside the car, wrapping herself up in a quilt. "You want a blanket?"

"I'm good," I answered, sitting down inside the van. "So you're good friends with Nathaniel?"

"Ever since diapers," She nodded. "Our families are really close. You?"

"Oh, I met him earlier this week, actually," I responded. "He came into the hospital to warn everybody about going into the woods, and he just kind of … divulged into conversation."

"He's quite the charmer," She chuckled. "Always dying for attention."

I smiled, looking out at the sea.

"Nathaniel and I went to school together," Robyn continued. "Along with everybody else out there," She gestured towards all the guys out on the waves. "Except for the younger one, of course – the one that was sitting with me a couple minutes ago. That's Tommy, my younger brother."

"How old is he?" I wondered.

"Just turned sixteen a week or two ago," She replied, smiling. "Yeah, I was going into fifth grade by the time he was born. And I was a sophomore by the time he started kindergarten. And by the time he graduated eighth grade, I was married. Crazy, huh?"

"You're married?" I looked over at her comfortable face.

"See that guy out there with the red board?" She asked. When I nodded, she continued, "That's my husband, Adam."

I watched Adam for a moment, noting his mannerisms: every time he emerged from the waves, he ran his hand through his black cropped hair; he seemed very carefree, splashing Tommy with a wide smile on his face. Only once did I catch a glimpse of his face, but I wasn't able to really discern all his features; he moved very quickly, emerging from one wave and then jumping into another.

"And then the one over there, beside Tommy, the one with that blue and white board," Robyn pointed to the peak of a roaring wave. "That's Dylan."

Dylan didn't let me look at him that long before he fell off his board and into the water. When he surfaced from the depths of the waves, I noticed he had wavy mop-top hair, pitch black like the rest of his cohorts'. Similar to Adam, I wasn't able to get a good look at him – he continued to dive into the swells.

"Then the one who just splashed Nate," she pulled my attention over to a different Quileute. "That's Justin."

Fortunately, Justin was the only one that stood still for a significant amount of time – I was able to examine him to my heart's content before he dove into the water. His hair was cropped short, like Adam's, only it looked browner than it did black; another different feature of his was that he had wide green eyes. Despite all of these standout qualities, he had the same tan skin as the rest of his friends.

And another similar trait they all shared? The same burly body.

"There's usually two other guys that hang out with the group," Robyn interrupted my thoughts. "Zach and Shane, but they both got in trouble with their girlfriends." Then she muttered under her breath, "But it's not like that's a shock."

I nodded, watching as the boys caught the oncoming swell.

"So, are you and Nate dating?" Robyn asked out of the blue.

My eyes shot over to her, bumbling, "Nathaniel and me? N-no, we're not dating. Why do ask? D-did he say anything to you?" All the words were rushed and smashed together.

"No, Nate didn't say anything," She giggled at my urgency. "I just assumed, because, I mean, the minute we mentioned surfing, he insisted that he needed to pick you up before we did anything – he acted as though it would be the end of the world if you didn't hang out with him. So, I just assumed …"

"There's nothing to assume," I shook my head, speaking coherently again. "We're just friends."

"Oh, it's just that I haven't seen him act that way since …." She had a smile on her face until she reached the end of the sentence – then it faded away.

When she didn't say anything for a minute, I interceded, "Since what?"

"Well, um," Robyn had a painful melancholy on her face. "Senior year, a new girl transferred from somewhere in California – San Jose, I think it was. Nate and she clicked instantaneously; they spent every waking moment with each other. It was adorable – they were the cutest couple since I don't know what." She paused to smile, but it vanished almost immediately. "And then she died."

"In a car crash," I recalled Nathaniel telling me that the day I met him, when he asked what genre my novels were.

"Yep," She nodded. "Nate was distraught, not talking at all – not even to his parents. Then a couple weeks before graduation, he ran off and didn't tell anybody where he went. It wasn't until a couple months later that he sent letters to everybody saying that he was safe and he was in Montana."

I was shocked. "He ran away?"

"Yeah, we all thought he was foolish," Robyn exhaled deeply, her breath puffing out in a little translucent cloud. "I mean, everyone here on the Rez is very tight-knit; generation after generation, no one leaves. You're expected to live your life here, which is how it should be and it was how we all thought, with family as the dominant priority. Nate was sort of the rebel for leaving."

"You guys seem to take heritage and tradition pretty seriously," I inferred, deeply involved with her story.

"Of course," She agreed. "It's the way we were raised. Quileutes are a very mutual group, like a tribe or like a … hmm, what's a good word?"

"Like a pack?" I offered.

She laughed, loosening up a bit. "_Twilight_ fan, are you? I should've known."

"What makes you say that?" I wondered, pushing my hair behind my ear.

Robyn smiled warmly at me, giggling under her breath. "Just about everybody in Forks since 2008 has been a _Twilight_ fanatic," She noted. "And, girl, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there are no werewolves or vampires here."

"Nathaniel already gave me the heads-up," I sighed. "I have to admit I'm disappointed."

Robyn guffawed again. "Believe me, if Adam were a wolf, I'd be ecstatic. Have you seen the muscles on those guys in _New Moon_?"

"Yeah," I grinned as she reached into the center console of the van. Robyn pulled out a box of licorice and grabbed herself a strand. "But, from looks of it, these guys seem pretty well-built too."

"Yeah, they're alright," she shrugged, making me laugh. "Want a Twizzler?"

"No thanks," I replied, glancing out at the waves again.

Nathaniel, Adam and Justin had stopped surfing and were just standing in the waves, talking. Tommy and Dylan, however, were intent on catching the perfect swell. I looked back at Nathaniel, only to find he was looking straight at me; for a moment, I was embarrassed, and I thought he would be, too, but, to my surprise, he smiled and waved.

"So," The sound of Robyn's voice pulled my attention back to her. "Do you want to come over Adam's and my place after they finish up? I should get started on the boys' dinner."

"It's two o'clock, and you're already making their dinner?" I pulled my coat tighter around me. It had to be twenty degrees out at most.

"You'd be shocked at how much these boys eat," She shook her head. "It's no wonder they're so buff."

I sighed. "Well, I guess I could stay a little bit longer."

"You sound hesitant," She chuckled, hopping out of the truck when she noticed Adam walking out of the waves. "Are you obligated to be somewhere else?"

"No," I shook my head. "So I guess I don't have any reasons _not_ to stay."

Robyn flashed one last smile in my direction before turning to her husband; immediately, their lips connected, holding each other in an affectionate embrace. I felt rather awkward just looking on, but they took no notice of me, as if they forgot I was even there.

Suddenly, my mind retreated to Mason, and within milliseconds I felt tears threatening; I found it painfully pathetic that I didn't even have to be thinking of Mason for him to regularly pop into my brain – I just couldn't push the image of his face away, and I never would be able to, no doubt.

Finally, Robyn and Adam pulled away.

"Hey, sweetheart," Adam looked deep into Robyn's eyes, as if he could see something no one else could see – something beautiful, something that made her particularly extraordinary to him. And then, turning, Adam noticed me, "Oh, hello. Wow, that's a bit awkward. Have we met?" He wrapped one hand around his wife's waist and then extended the other to me.

"I'm Scarlett," I introduced myself, shaking his hand.

"Ah, so you're the renowned Scarlett," He laughed. "We sure have heard an earful about you. Hi, I'm Adam. It's great to meet you."

My cheeks flushed pink. "Thank you."

"So are you coming back to our house?" Adam grinned politely, rubbing Robyn's lower back lovingly.

"That's the plan," I nodded as the rest of the guys burst out of the water.

"Well, we'll be happy to have you," Adam grinned, tuning to Dylan as he came up to talk to him.

Nathaniel wasted no time in taking his place by my side. "Did Robyn bore you to death?" He joked, but deep in his eyes I could tell he was serious.

"Ha, ha," Robyn stuck her tongue out at Nathaniel childishly.

"No, I think she's really nice," I countered, and threw in one last comment just to mess with him, "And don't worry, she didn't tell me a thing about prom."

"Prom!" Dylan exploded in laughter, Justin just as boisterous.

"Hey, Nate," Justin laughed loudly. "Remember when you …?"

Nathaniel interrupted flatly, "Yeah, yeah. Prom was hilarious." He turned to me, "Did you have to bring that up?"

"I expect to hear that story before I go home tonight," I looked up at him as the group began to pile into the two vans. "It sounds like a good one."

"Oh, it is," Dylan laughed as he hopped into the backseat.

"And you should probably hear it before you leave," Nathaniel simpered, helping me into the very back of the van. "They remind me of it almost every day."

"Just trying to keep the memories alive," Adam sniggered.

Nathaniel shook his head, gulping nervously and trying to avoid my eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

I sat in the back, Nathaniel sitting beside me.

Dylan and Justin sat in the middle row, joking around and laughing. Justin seemed a bit more reserved than Dylan, but they were both equally rowdy. Nathaniel did his best to ignore the two's animated dispositions, but I knew that if I hadn't been there, he would've joined in the mockery.

Adam and Robyn sat in the front, hands intertwined and talking quietly. They ignored the rest of the group in the back; it seemed that, whenever they were with each other, they rarely noticed the outside world.

The other van had belonged to Tommy, so he drove it back to the house with all the boards and surfing paraphernalia in the backseats.

We only drove about three minutes back up the road on which we'd come, away from the shore. About two miles up the road, Adam turned down a dirt side road and then we were consumed in the forest. While in the underbrush of the woods, it was hard to tell that it was still daylight; a heavy canopy covered everything in sight, trapping us on a luscious green planet.

Once we'd been down the gravel path for about a mile, we came upon a log cabin, rather small in size but considerably cozy. The place was two stories high, the top floor abundant with windows. Greenery surrounded the home, isolating it in the middle of the forest; it seemed as if the house had sprouted out from the depths of the moist earth, originally intending to become a tree but instead becoming a home.

Out front was a small red shed – not like the kind you can walk in, but the tiny ones that are good for storing various tools. Beside the shed was a dinky, rusty red car with duct tape covering one of the backseat windows and also some tape hiding a hole on the hood. There were no wheels on the vehicle; instead, it was propped up on four cinderblocks.

Beside the car was a black, old pickup truck, which easily could've collapsed at any given moment. Incredibly, it was running.

"Hey, look," Adam turned the wheel and parked haphazardly in front of the house. "What are Zach and Shane doing here?"

As we began to pile out of the van, the truck turned off, and two boys, quite similar-looking to the rest, climbed out to meet us. One was taller than the other. The taller one had dark ruffled hair, with the same brown eyes and tan skin as the others. The shorter one was rather skinny and was only shorter by a couple inches, but he had the same muscular build, eye color, and skin color as everyone else; his black hair was much longer – flowing down past his shoulders.

Dylan jumped out of the van, immediately going up to greet the two. "Hey, man!" He exclaimed. "I thought you were in the slammer?"

"That's what it felt like," The taller one laughed.

"You shouldn't have left your girlfriends at home, you know," Robyn hopped out and put her hand on her hips as Tommy drove up in the other van. "If I were you, I would be at home trying to mend what's left of my relationship."

The short boy laughed. "C'mon. You aren't going to rat us out, are you?"

Nathaniel courteously helped me out of the van, smiling. The tall boy took notice of me almost right away. "Who might this be?"

"Don't even think about it," Nathaniel refused, laughing.

"Oh, I'm thinking about it," The boy eyed me carefully. "I'm Shane. And you are …?"

"Scarlett," I smiled.

"I'm Zach," The short, thin one interceded. "Just like Nate to be the first to nab the cute ones."

"Shut up. You're taken, remember?" Nathaniel eyed the two warily, holding me close to him; his apparent friendliness and protectiveness of me was unforeseen, but I should've expected nothing less with Mason not here – Nathaniel wasted no time in trying to win my affection.

"I'm willing to reconsider," Shane chuckled.

"Now, now, boys," Adam admonished with a smile on his face, blithely pushing Shane by the top of his head toward the house as we all approached the cabin. It was clear Adam was the mediator of the group – his definite authority was clear, and obviously well respected; almost instantly Shane backed off, ignoring me and fooling around with his friends instead.

The group went in front of Nathaniel and me, not hesitating to enter the home. I, however, lingered behind; Nathaniel considerately stayed behind with me, watching me with curious eyes.

"This place is beautiful," I commented.

The porch was not very big, only large enough to fit the two rocking chairs that sat out front – they rocked gently in the wind. On both sides of the front door were two gargantuan flower pots, marigolds pouring out of them; it was surprising to see a plant color other than green – it definitely added some optimism against the forest's natural, dark colors.

"You like it?" Nathaniel grinned.

"Yeah," I nodded. "It's very … homey."

Nathaniel smiled before letting me enter the house first.

As soon as you walked in, the first thing you noticed was all of the natural light. Everything was very open, each room flowing into the other; there were more windows than walls, letting the place sort of fit into the category of tree house. You could forget they were indoors altogether – with the exception of the uplifting heat, of course.

The first room was the kitchen, filled with very elderly appliances and battered cabinets. The kitchen table was already crowded with the boys, as they greedily dug into a bowl of muffins Robyn had prepared for them. The next room was a dining room with a table almost twelve feet long, multiple mismatched chairs cluttered around it. Then around the corner was a huge sectional couch with a chunky TV sitting closely in front of it.

A hallway branched off between the kitchen and the dining room, most likely leading to bedrooms.

Robyn stood by the counter, Adam close by her side, while the rest of the boys ate. Nathaniel left my side and joined them, grabbing one of the monstrous muffins from the woven basket in the center of the table. I remained standing, stepping back and examining this picture they presented. The smell of home-cooked bread, the sound of laughter and ease, the delight painted on each of the Quileutes' faces – it was all quite a classic picture, actually.

Honestly, I was jealous.

Why would Nathaniel ever consider leaving a place such as this? Of course, he was distraught after the death of his girlfriend, but who better to offer support and care than his family? Each of the Quileutes acted as one; it was now that I could truly see what Robyn had meant when she said their togetherness was everything to them – family was imperative.

But I supposed Nathaniel left for the same reasons Asher did.

The both of them had been lost, unsure of what to do. So their solution was to flee from the problem, start over. Knowing what I knew of Nathaniel's past now, I wondered why he hadn't been more understanding of Asher when we'd been discussing the case in the car. Why hadn't Nathaniel had the least bit of sympathy for a young boy who was so much like him?

"Are you hungry, Scarlett?" Robyn asked, crashing my train of thought.

Instantly, eight pairs of eyes shot over to me. "I'm fine."

"Hey, sweetheart," Dylan called to me, food in his mouth. He pulled out the chair between him and Nathaniel. "Come sit."

Feeling it would be rude to refuse, I obliged.

"So," Justin smiled as I sat. "You're a Forks girl, are you?"

"Yeah, I live there by myself," I nodded embarrassedly. In turn, Nathaniel smiled at me with a comforting look.

"I've seen you at the hospital up there, haven't I?" Zach grinned, pulling his hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of his face.

"That's right," Dylan agreed. "When you broke your thumb … idiot."

"You're the one that slammed it in the door, if you recall," Zach countered, Dylan rolling his eyes.

"Are you a doctor?" Justin asked, grabbing another muffin from the bin.

"No," I shook my head, fidgeting apprehensively.

"She's an author," Nathaniel told the group. "She already has a published novel and everything."

"Really?" Adam raised an eyebrow, reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a soda. "That's pretty impressive. Are you working on anything right now?"

"Ugh," I shrugged, smiling uncomfortably. "Writer's block."

"You think you'd ever write a story about us?" Shane grinned.

"Um," I shrugged. "Maybe. Authors can get influence from anywhere."

"Can I be able to fly?" Dylan teased, nudging Zach in the gut. "Or can I have, like, x-ray vision?"

"She doesn't write that kind of stuff, stupid," Nathaniel shook his head. "She writes romances."

"Ooh," A bunch of the boys said in unison, making me giggle nervously.

"Well, you did say you can get influence from anywhere," Shane smiled slyly. "I give you permission to take notes on me, since I'm so charming."

"Yeah, right," Justin smirked. "You're just _so_ charming."

"If she's going to be taking notes on anyone," Zach grinned. "She should be taking notes on me, because obviously I'm the most considerate."

"Yes, you were definitely considerate when you barfed on you're date's dress," Shane joked, making Zach's russet skin turn red.

"That was an accident," Zach defended himself. "It wasn't my fault that the flu virus was going around. Besides, that dress was ugly anyway."

"Wow, Zach," Robyn laughed. "That's a _very_ considerate comment."

"Hey, Tommy," Adam called to the silent boy who had been invisible to the group for the last few minutes. "Have you gone mute? Usually you're the life of the party."

"Uh," Tommy's voice stuttered to a start. "I'm just … you know, tired."

"No," Dylan shook his head. "You're just nervous because your crush is here. What was that you said you were gonna say to her once you met her?"

"Oh, I remember," Shane grinned. "He was gonna say, 'Hey, beautiful. This is where your search for the perfect guy ends.' And then he was gonna sweep her off her feet, ultimately leading to a steamy make out scene."

I blushed excessively.

"I did not!" Tommy denied, avoiding my eyes. At once, all the boys burst into laughter. "No, I never said that!"

"Of course, you didn't," Justin guffawed.

I turned to Nathaniel, poking him on the arm. "Do something," I pleaded. "They're being so mean to him."

Nathaniel shook his head, chuckling, "They're just fooling around."

I couldn't stand to see Tommy cringe under the boys' mocking spotlight; if Nathaniel didn't do something, I would. "Well, I think Tommy is very handsome. Maybe if he were a couple years older …"

The boys looked at me, agape.

Tommy brightened. "Oh, age is but a number. How old are you?"

"Sorry, kid," I simpered apologetically. "Twenty-seven."

"Aw, damn," He slouched again, but now that that elephant was out of the room, he loosened up, joining into the rest of the conversation.

"Hey, Robyn!" Justin leaned back in his chair to look at her. "We're almost out of muffins."

"There's more in the oven," Robyn informed him, taking a sip of Adam's soda. "And I ordered some pizza. So be patient."

"There had to be at least twenty muffins in that basket," I gawked.

"I told you you'd be shocked at how much these guys eat," Robyn said, all of the boys shrugging in agreement.

"Now I believe you," I grinned.

"Yeah, looks like them hormones never quit," Zach laughed. "We've been eating like pigs since freshman year of high school."

"I blame Him," Shane shook his head, pointing up.

"So," Dylan smiled, his eyes flickering from me to Nathaniel and then back to me again. "When do you guys plan to get together?"

"Oh, w-we're not," I refused shaking my head, stumbling over each word as if I had a speech impediment. "N-Nathaniel and I … no, we're n-not. Never."

"Way to jump the gun," Tommy laughed.

"She's making her way to me," Shane snickered. "I know it."

"If she were to choose any of us," Adam chuckled. "I think you'd be the first one she'd shoot down, Shane."

"Don't crush a guy's dreams," Shane stabbed a finger in Adam's direction.

"Just stating the obvious," Adam shrugged, turning back to his wife.

"You seem to be pretty silent, Nate," Justin grinned, watching me carefully. "What do you think about all this?"

Nathaniel's eyes scanned over each person at the table – either looking for advice or criticism, I wasn't really sure. Once he reached me, he stayed staring at me for a long while, before speaking.

"Um," He paused before continuing. "I don't think Scarlett's my type."

I raised an eyebrow exaggeratedly. "Not your type?"

"Well, obviously," Nathaniel smirked, a wily grin on his face. "I'm just too good for you."

"I must say, Nathaniel," I shook my head, pretending to act shocked. "I considered you at first, but now, I realize … you're just not my type either."

"Oh, I'm not?" Nathaniel's eyes widened histrionically.

"No," I shook my head as the rest of boys looked on, intrigued. "You're not pale enough for my taste. Besides, I prefer _blondes_." I'd intended for my tone to be joking, but it was apparent Nathaniel had taken a punch from that last one.

His eyes dropped, actually disappointed, no longer acting. "Um, I think you meant _dirty_ blondes."

Nathaniel stood, pushing his chair nosily back under the table, hurt. He was out the front door in a matter of seconds.

"Ooh," Zach sighed. "Burn."

"What just happened?" Dylan mumbled to Justin.

"What was that about?" Robyn looked at me expectantly, but I ignored her.

"Nathaniel!" I frowned, standing too and running out the door after him.

Once I was out on the porch, Nathaniel was nowhere in plain sight. If I hadn't caught a glimpse of his back walking away from me into the depths of the woods, I probably never would've found him.

I followed him, having to run to catch up to his steady walk.

He never ceased to make his way deeper into the forest, and he never turned to see if I was behind him; I supposed he had a feeling I'd followed. Once we'd been walking – well, him walking and me running – for at least five minutes, he suddenly skidded to halt, making me collide into his rock-solid, muscular back. He took no notice of me at first, but I knew he felt it. After a few silent moments, he turned and stared at me with an inscrutable gaze.

"I didn't mean to offend you …." I began, but not knowing how to go on.

He stood there staring at me for a few long seconds, and then exhaling, "I know you didn't."

"Then why did you burst out like that?" I wondered.

"It just … frustrated me," He replied. "I don't know what took over me."

"Well, I'm sorry for frustrating you," I apologized.

"Well, I'm sorry for bursting out like that," he acknowledged.

"I guess, I was going too far," I admitted, watching him carefully. We were surrounded completely by foliage; the only noise was the _whoosh_ of the wind. "But you just surprised me. It's like you had zero interest in me and, before, when you found me in the woods with Mason, with the wolf, you seemed infatuated by me …"

"It wasn't without effort," he denied.

I understood. "You wanted to avoid your friends' judgment."

"At all costs," he nodded.

I said nothing.

"I want you to understand something," He frowned, the gentle wind making his hair flap on his forehead – he made no move to push it out of his face. "I hope you realize I was just joking around."

"I realize," I nodded.

"Actually," He continued just as a light patter of rain could be heard on the canopy above us. "_You_ are too good for _me_."

I shook my head, "That's not true. You're a great person, one of the nicest I've ever met. But, I just think …"

He interrupted, ignoring my protests. "I want you to be my type. You are."

"I c-can't think of you that way," I stammered. "I'm sorry."

Nathaniel's eyes fell to the ground. "I'm sorry, too."

A sensation of guilt ran through me, pushing the next words out of my mouth. "You're amazing, you're an unbelievable friend. And I want to get to know you better." There was a gap in the sentence, leaving it almost unfinished, and then I repeated, "But I just can't think of you that way."

"So you've said," He nodded, looking back up at me.

"I'm sorry," I said again.

"So you've said," He accepted again.

"Can you forgive me?" I asked.

Incomprehension flashed onto his face as he eyed me charily. "There's nothing to forgive you for and there is nothing for you to keep apologizing for, either."

"And why not?" I shook my head. "Why can't you forgive me?"

He sighed. "You've done nothing wrong."

"I've offended you," I listed my mistakes. "I embarrassed you in front your friends. I made you stand out in the rain, left you hanging. I've been selfish …"

"And that's what I want," he interrupted. "I only want what's best for you. I _want_ you to be selfish. If that's what it takes for you to live the life you want, then that's what it takes. And if what's best for you is not me, then I will gladly stop pressing you to love me."

I flushed. "But …"

"Scarlett," Nathaniel spoke sternly, as if he were scolding a child. "Stop protesting. There's nothing more to it, so stop trying to complicate things."

"I'm not trying to complicate things," I countered.

"Oh, but you are," He shook his head, looking away from me.

"Well, then, fine," I sighed. "If you want to be difficult, then go on and be difficult."

He surprised me by laughing. "You're hilarious."

"I'm not being funny!" I folded my arms across my chest. "I'm being serious!"

"Well, stop trying to be serious," He grinned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Because you're not very good at it."

"Well, _excuse_ me," I stuck my nose up into the air, trying to be rational. "And when someone is trying to apologize, you don't laugh at them or refuse their apology, just so you know."

"Well, then," He shifted his weight. "I forgive you. Are you happy now?"

"Extremely," I smiled, turning to head back to the house.


	9. Chapter 8, pt 2

Once we returned to the house, everyone except for Robyn had left the kitchen and had moved to the couch, eyes fixated on the television set. On the screen was a football game – both the Seahawks and their opponent had a score of zero at the moment.

"Did you two make up?" Dylan asked, glancing up at us as we entered.

"If not," Shane shrugged. "I have a shoulder for you to cry on, Scarlett."

"Yes," Nathaniel shot an aggressive glace at Shane. "We 'made up'."

"You sure are defensive of her," Tommy commented, not looking at any specific person other than those on the television. "Why so edgy?"

"I'm not edgy," Nathaniel denied, sitting on the couch and leaving a spot for me beside him. "I'm just worried about her. This chick is fragile. She trips on air – I'd like avoid a trip to the emergency room today, if you don't mind."

"I'll be fine," I sat down carefully, making sure to seem more balanced than usual for the next few minutes – the last thing I wanted to do was to fall like an idiot and prove Nathaniel's point.

"Go, go, go!" Adam and Dylan jumped to their feet, watching the screen elatedly as the quarterback dashed from one end zone to the other.

"Touchdown!" Zach exclaimed, hi-fiving Shane.

Nathaniel chuckled quietly, and then leaned over to whisper to me, "Just put a television in front of a group of guys and they'll go completely mad."

I stayed for a couple hours after that, until the sun fell into the sea and the moon took its nightshift. A rainstorm had blown in, pattering loudly on the metal roof like bullets. The game had started out phenomenal, but then it took a sour turn for the Seahawks – they lost 7 to 34. By then, it was almost ten o'clock.

"They really took a beating," Dylan exhaled as we shuffled into the kitchen.

"At least they didn't suck completely," Adam shrugged, breaking away from the group and walking down the hallway.

"Well, Scarlett," Nathaniel rested his palm on the countertop as Tommy began to browse through Robyn and Adam's refrigerator. "It's getting late and driving back in this weather will be hell, so I might as well take you home now."

"Okay," I nodded. "I'll get my coat."

"Here," Justin beat me to it, taking my coat off the back of a kitchen chair and tossing it to me.

Typically, I dropped it.

"Klutz," Nathaniel laughed, picking it up for me.

"If you haven't already noticed," I simpered. "I'm awfully uncoordinated."

"C'mon, let's go," Nathaniel grabbed my arm and pulled me to the door.

"Wait," I stopped, but he dragged me despite my resistance. "I don't get to say goodbye to anyone?"

"Yeah, Nate," Shane approached us. "She doesn't get to say goodbye?"

"Bye, Shane," I smiled. He pulled me into a brief hug.

"Bye, honey," Shane grinned before slouching into a kitchen chair.

"Later, Scarlett!" Tommy waved enthusiastically, still hopeful. "Will you be coming back any time soon?"

"I have nothing to do tomorrow," I replied, deciding that this was much, much better than sitting around by myself all day.

"Did she say she's coming back?" Zach's eyes widened as Robyn entered the room, Adam close behind her. "That's weird – usually we scare people away."

"No, you are all very nice," I said politely.

"Are you leaving?" Robyn approached me and wrapped me in a hug. "It was great meeting you. You can come down any time."

"Thanks, Robyn," I nodded, as Nathaniel uncomfortably pulled on my hand, longing to go. "It was nice meeting all of you. Thank you so much."

"I didn't get my goodbye hug!" Dylan complained jokingly, but yet he made no move to get up from his chair and come near me.

"We don't have time," Nathaniel exhaled exasperatedly, pulling me out the front door and slamming it shut before anyone else could intercede.

"You seem eager to leave," I noted.

He remained on the porch, peering off the two inch drop as if it were a mile to the ground. "I wanted to leave before it got dark."

"Why?" I wondered.

"I left my car at the beach."

"Oh," I recalled – we'd both forgotten about it completely. "So you did."

"I guess I can take you back in the van and pick up my car later," He suggested mainly to himself. As soon as he decided, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out into the downpour.

I made a mad dash for shelter, running to the van and putting my hand on the handle, waiting for him to unlock it. However, when I turned to look behind me, Nathaniel was still by the porch.

His neck was craned back and his mouth was wide open, drinking the rain immaturely – acting like a six and a half foot tall four-year-old. His hair and his shirt clung to his body, accenting his muscular figure. The rain bounced off the gravel driveway around him, springing back up to his knees.

Altogether, it was like a scene from a movie.

It was rare to see a beautiful sight in one lifetime; I could've sworn that Mason was the most gorgeous thing I'd ever lay eyes on. However, Nathaniel made me speechless, sending all my thoughts into a muddled mess. I felt a sudden respect for Nathaniel – his simple outlook on everything was adorable, but his large heart was an even bigger quality to adore. In spite of myself, I refused to let Nathaniel surpass Mason – Mason was my ultimate goal, and I would never be able to let him slip through my fingers without a fight.

Instead, I decided that neither boy was more beautiful than the other; yet, each was their own category of beautiful … I lost my train of thought.

How do I put this logically? Justifiably?

Mason was intellectual, while Nathaniel was no scholar. Nathaniel was blissful and effortless, while Mason had a more profound, multifaceted way of depicting his emotions. Physically, Mason was pale, while Nathaniel was most definitely not; to me, Nathaniel was uplifting, pulling me to the light, while Mason was my beacon in a dark place.

They evened each other out.

A choice? Oh, no. Definitely not. I would do whatever it took to avoid a final decision; I refused to let them put me on the spot. Decisively, I knew I would have to decide within myself – I would be the judge, and I would be the only one who knew of my judgment day. If that meant preferring one over the other, I'd do it. I just wouldn't be able to decide the verdict with both of them watching me expectantly.

I was caught between a lesser of two beauties.

Time seemed to stop; it felt as though I was staring at Nathaniel for hours instead of mere seconds. I supposed, watching such a sight, I couldn't process time, or temperature, or sound; everything seemed to mush together. It was impossible to process thought either – I couldn't even preserve the moment in my memory bank, that's how befuddled I was … and then I lost my thoughts in the breeze again.

Eventually, Nathaniel pulled his head forward and looked straight into the woods. Then he turned to me slowly, watching me with joyful, vividly excited eyes. I wondered what my expression was right now – probably confused, and stunned, and overwhelmed. After nothing but the sound of rain and nothing but two beautiful chocolate eyes staring at me, an echo punctured the air.

It was his laughter.

The sound was revitalizing, electrifying; it reverberated throughout the woods, taking over my whole body until I was at the point of no return. I had never heard such a pleasant sound; it made me think of the better, instead of the worse – it made me fly into a world of contentment, with nothing else around me to dampen the day. All misery, all sadness, all impurity was erased with a single sound … the sound of his laughter.

"Scarlett," Nathaniel's voice cooed, the hint of a chuckle under his breath.

I blinked excessively, wondering if it were all some far away dream that I'd conjured up … no, there was no way I could've dreamt a beautiful noise such as that. It was too new, too marvelous to be a product of my brain; I wouldn't have been able to come close to such an extraordinary picture.

"N-Nathaniel?" I stuttered. I could still hear the patter of rain around us.

Looking up, I found Nathaniel's face inches from mine. I was in his arms, disturbingly close to the gravel driveway.

"What happened?" I looked up at his dripping wet face.

"You fainted," He smirked, unable to contain his delight. "Or was that you just tripping on air again?"

I looked away from him. "Wow, that's embarrassing."

"Good thing I caught you before your head hit the gravel," He mused, lifting me back to a standing position. "Are you okay? Why'd you faint anyway?"

"Y-you just … you disorientated me," I stammered.

He seemed surprised, but then his shock morphed into amusement. "I should get you back home before you hurt yourself."

"That might be best," I agreed, climbing cautiously into the van.

Nathaniel helped me into the passenger side, making me feel disabled. He then dashed around the hood of Tommy's van, hopped into the driver's side and put the key in the ignition, the vehicle hesitantly stuttering to life. As we turned back down Robyn and Adam's driveway, Nathaniel spoke animatedly to me about something or another. I, however, was unable to intake a single word he said; I still felt treacherously lightheaded.

Once we were back on the Reservation's main road, I regained my clarity, all the blurry outlines becoming a firm, clear picture. Nathaniel smiled at me, apparently noticing the glassy film slipping off my eyes.

"Are you feeling okay?" He grinned solicitously.

"Everything's a little clearer," My voice was small, practically inaudible.

"Well, at least your conscious again," he turned his eyes back to the road.

"I had fun today," I told him. He dropped his shoulders as if a huge burden had just been lifted off them. "You seem relieved."

"I am," He confirmed. "I was afraid you'd be startled by us."

"Startled?" I raised an eyebrow, curious. "Should I be?"

"Well, you're alone a lot," He shrugged. "And we're – unfortunately – always together. I just would've thought … too much human life all at once may have paralyzed you."

"Ha, ha," I exhaled a fake laugh, turning my head to look at him, but spinning a little too quickly. I felt suddenly woozy for a few seconds.

He noticed. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Swift movements don't help much," I replied. "But I'm fine. Continue."

"Alright," He paused to recollect his thoughts. Once settling on where to begin, he asked, "Do you know what I've noticed? Something different about us?"

"Physically? Emotionally?" I tried to clarify.

"No, where we live," he sighed. "Your house is much more … blue. And I don't mean sad, I mean, like … like the actual feel of it. While my home here on the Rez is rather, I don't know, yellow."

"I was considering a paint job …"

"No, no," He shook his head. "I don't know exactly how to put it – even though La Push and Forks are less than an hour from each other and even though the weather is equally as dark in both places, you seem much more … sullen."

I didn't know how to respond.

"Or so I've noticed," He added.

"I guess I can understand what you're saying," I exhaled. "I suppose there's a reason for those sorts of differences, though." He glimpsed over at me. "You're right. the places are not far from one another or different much at all. But I guess people in La Push revolt against the weather in a metaphorical sense. They don't want to be wrapped up in the darkness and the … blueness of the atmosphere we are forced to endure."

He nodded.

"Meanwhile," I continued. "In Forks, if we didn't move here because we actually wanted to be here, we would've – indisputably – moved somewhere else. In Forks, it's either mold with the background or move somewhere sunny."

There was a pause between the two of us.

"La Push is much brighter, and not in terms of weather, I've observed," I finished, glancing over at Nathaniel. "Gosh, I sound like those snobby historians in a documentary.

He adjusted his hand's position on the steering wheel before saying, "And you like it in Forks, right? You actually want to live there?"

"Yes," I answered surely.

"_Why_?" His tone questioned my sanity.

I exhaled, smiling. "You have no idea how many times I've been asked that question. From my family, especially."

"I was born here," He sighed. "So staying until the age of eighteen was understandable, for me. I'm still debating why I came back … but you, you came here all on your own will."

"Yes," I repeated.

"You surprise me – often."

"Just trying to keep things interesting," I replied, pulling the sleeves of my jacket farther over my balled fists.

He laughed, and then stopped to ask me another question. "Do you have friends up in Forks?"

"Few," I answered. "But good friends, nonetheless."

"Then why are you alone all the time?" He wondered.

"It's simple really," I shrugged, looking over at him. "Humans are busy, I am not." My eyes retreated to my hands, self-conscious.

He didn't say anything, he just nodded.

I continued, mostly talking to myself. "I guess, that doesn't make me human – I'm an alien …. Perhaps, I'm not supposed to be here."

"Don't say that," He chuckled.

"Why not?" I glimpsed over at him. "It's true, isn't it?"

"No, it's not true," He denied. "You know what my mother said to me one time, before I left La Push?"

"What?"

"No one would want to live in the Pacific Northwest unless you were born here," He explained. "If someone moved here, they would be putting themselves through brutal self-training, trying to battle the darkness, and the wet, and the cold, and the isolation. They'd do for the sake of … trying to save themselves."

I took a deep breath.

"And once you've survived isolation," He concluded. "You're invincible."

There was a silence between us.

I was the first to break it, "Invincible, huh?" I shrugged. "Then I must be indestructible." I had to laugh at the statement, I just had to – it sounded outrageous coming out of my mouth.

"Don't laugh," He instructed. "I believe it."

"You must be crazy, then," I mused, still giggling to myself.

"No," he denied. "You may not think this, but you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

I paused. "Not physically."

"No, definitely not physically," He chuckled. "But resilience-wise, yes."

I laughed again. "Are we talking about the same person?"

"I'm talking about you," He nodded.

"No, you're not," I shook my head. "I'm pathetic, if you haven't already noticed – emotionally, and often physically, incapable of standing on my own two feet."

"I'm talking about _you_," He repeated only this time with more emphasis.

"Nathaniel," I wasn't laughing anymore; my voice was desperate, longing to prove him wrong, longing to prove my incapability. Why was I so determined to fight against him about this? "I'm delicate, always having to lean on someone else for support – never able to stand on my own. I can't imagine why anyone would think otherwise."

His eyes remained glued to the road, saying nothing.

We drove in silence for a few moments. The outside scenery passed faster now as Nathaniel sped up to almost seventy. I didn't mind the speed – although, I was unsure of his need to rush.

I didn't want to rush.

I wanted to waste as much of my time as possible with him; I didn't want to return home. I knew for a fact, that the minute he pulled out of my driveway, I would turn and look at my empty house, as if expecting it to talk back to me. Coop had been right – my need for people was repugnant; my need for someone else was like a human's need for air, completely instinctive and utterly compulsory.

Before I knew it, my house was in front of us and Nathaniel was turning off the car. Even though he stepped out of the vehicle, I refused to move. I detested the thought of walking back into detachment so easily.

Nathaniel noticed my reluctance and misread it as his own fault; he walked around to my door and opened it, saying, "So you're one of those girls, are you? Don't get out of the car unless the guy opens your door? Little Miss _Stubborn_."

"No," I denied, stepping out of the car, completely ignoring the rain. "I just don't want you to leave."

He stepped back, obviously staggered by my statement. His eyes widened at first, but then softened. his smile grew warm as he stepped closer and took my hand in his.

I sniffed, "I don't want to be alone."

"You don't have to be," He stepped closer.

Nathaniel smiled at me lovingly, bending to down to reach my height. His face neared mine, and I knew what was coming. Suddenly, there was a furious debate inside me. Should I let him? Should I not? What about Mason? Mason would never know.

"No," I stopped him, stepping away from him.

"Why not?" He acted as though his hand burned once I'd let go.

"I should go inside," I shook my head, walking around the back of the car and down the pathway to the front door.

"Scarlett, wait!" He called out for me.

But I was already at the front door, stuffing the key in the lock. I was positively infuriated – not by Nathaniel, but by myself. I shouldn't have needed to debate. I should've known without having to think about it that even considering kissing Nathaniel was the wrong thing to do. Mason loved me, and he'd expressed to me how much. I already knew how much I needed him, and I couldn't let him go.

"Scarlett, I'm sorry! Wait!" Nathaniel's voice was pleading as I stepped into my house.

I was about to shut the door, when I felt a tug on my arm. And, all of a sudden, I was outside again.

Nathaniel exhaled, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to kiss you after all you've been through. Just please … don't ignore me, don't let me go. I beg you."

"You beg me?" I repeated the words unbelievingly.

"Yes," He nodded. "With all my heart."

I tried to pull out his stronghold, but his grip was too strong.

"I need you," He implored.

For a moment I got lost in his eyes, lost in his words. I wanted to believe every sound that came out of his mouth – I wanted to trust him. But to break my trance, I turned and looked into the living room. There was the photo album, closed shut on the coffee table; I knew, somewhere in the midst of the crowded pages, Mason stood in a stunning tuxedo, his arm around a girl who was too average to even try to make herself beautiful. He was the one that I needed, and that's all there was to it.

"I'm sorry," I frowned. "But you're not the one I love."

His spirits plummeted at lightening speeds; the disappointment was clear on his face.

"But," I continued; his eyes returned to mine. "That doesn't mean I don't want you. I need you, too – being alone is like drowning, and you pulled me out of the water. You saved me."

He shook his head, whispering in a small voice, "You don't want me."

"That's a lie," I sighed. "I want you more than you know."

Nathaniel said nothing.

"And to prove it," a hint of a smile crossed my face. "I expect you to pick me up at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, and we'll go to Robyn's. And I expect the same the next day, and the day after that …"

He looked at me, confused. Fortunately, though, a smile was forming.

"I'm yours for the next three weeks," I proposed. "And if I don't change my mind about how I feel for you by then, there's nothing more we can do."

Nathaniel shrugged, adjusting to the idea.

"Deal?" I lifted my hand to shake his.

"Deal," He nodded, taking my hand. However, instead of shaking it, he pulled me into a hug. I inhaled, memorizing every quality about him.

Once he pulled away, I smiled, "See you tomorrow morning."

"And the morning after that," He grinned.

"And the morning after that," I continued.

Nathaniel, obviously thrilled by the next few weeks' plans, jogged to his car and waved to me before getting in. He backed out of the drive, and then zoomed down the street. Once he turned the corner, my smile faded as I stepped back into the foyer, shutting the door silently behind me.


	10. Chapter 9

_**The past week or so has been a medical nightmare for me, full of doctor's visits and antibiotics galore, so fanfiction wasn't necessarily the first thing on my mind. It was one of those things where I'd wake up at two in the morning and think 'god, I forgot to update.' So, my apologies. **_

And, again, the dream haunted me.

Just as vile, just as upsetting, and just as dreadful as the night it first appeared to me. Only, unlike the other nights, I did not jolt awake when the wolf charged for me; instead, the picture froze and then flickered off as if someone had just turned off the television. I remained dreamless for the rest of the night.

But I was still restless.

Answerless questions filled my brain: why was I such an idiot? Why didn't I rebel against this dreams rules', jump in front of myself and Nathaniel, and push the two of us apart? I wanted to revolt. I refused to watch this terrible nightmare over and over again.

It was all quite clever, actually; in a way, the dream was proving its superiority over me. It was repetitively teasing my incapability to do anything. It was as if I was at a movie theater, glued to my seat and forced to continually view a horror film that I didn't want to see; and that little monster inside of me would laugh as I squirmed, as I tried to jump up and stop all the misery on the screen.

I awoke to find my face tearstained.

My eyes were painfully red and swollen, I could feel it. This sensitivity was familiar to me – the feeling of foreboding, unease. Tears were just an unfortunate side effect.

Pushing back the covers and instantly freezing over, I shivered. Once I stood, I could see the backyard from out my window; it was completely covered in at least three feet of snow, and the blizzard was still going. I groaned apathetically, my toes numbing as I made my way across the wood floor and towards the bathroom.

I went through my daily cycle of taking a shower, brushing my teeth, brushing my hair, getting dressed, etc.; after which, I made my way down the steps without hurry.

Walking into the kitchen, I reached out and adjusted the thermostat a few degrees higher. I sniffed, frigid.

However, when I inhaled, I inhaled what could've been a dead animal.

But, no, it was just my uneaten lunch that I'd left out yesterday, the smell so repulsive that it could have easily killed a bird flying overhead. Wanting to dispose of it – the sooner the better – I picked up the plate and spooned all of the leftovers into the trashcan.

I ran the plate underneath the faucet, washing the plate until clean. Once the plate was spotless, I set it down in the sink's basin and leaned against the countertop, thinking. I gazed out the window above the sink.

With the ground covered in snowfall, I doubted the boys would consider surfing again today, unless they were feeling suicidal. However, it seemed as if the Quileutes enjoyed surprising me, so I could never know with them. They were different from what I was used to.

Just as Nathaniel had described, I was too _blue_.

The more I thought about it, the more that word fit. I couldn't do anything with over thinking it; while the Quileutes – yellow, as Nathaniel had put it – were carefree, so much so that I hoped it was contagious.

I, on a totally different hand completely, was thin-skinned, too thin-skinned sometimes. It took so little to break my heart. And I exaggerated my emotions so much that it was sensitively pathetic. Just by the way I positioned myself that I was isolated, and it was rather obvious that I wanted it that way, that _I_ was the one that isolated myself in the first place – back slouched, shoulders braced, as if I constantly expected rejection at any moment.

Oh, how something trivial could easily ruin me!

I was about to turn away from the sink, when something outside caught my eye. Everything was white, of course, with the exception of the tall, looming dark trees that banked the edge of the forest.

However, now something else, some other dark figure, was hesitantly emerging from the gloom of the woodlands. It was hunched low, only four feet from the ground, just a blob of darkness contrasting the white ground on which it stood. I leaned closer to the window above the sink, trying to get a better look at whatever this blob may be.

As it took another step closer, I was able to make out a pair of butterscotch eyes. They watched me cautiously, experimenting boundaries. I still could not figure out what this thing was; it was too dark compared to its surroundings.

Now, taking note that I wasn't reacting to it, the thing stepped forward, faster now, about five steps closer.

And I gasped.

It was the wolf, the very same from that day in the woods, the very same from my repetitive nightmare. In my dream, the wolf looked so real it was almost tangible. But now, seeing it for the second time in actuality, I discovered how wrong the picture in my head had been.

The beast was much more formidable, much more fearsome. Its teeth were sharper and its claws, longer. Somehow, its fur was much darker and its eyes were fiery, almost.

It was taller, wider, stronger. And then I realized …

There were only a few yards and a half inch of glass between me and it.

Processing my reaction, the wolf lifted its upper lip revealing a multitude of jagged teeth. Its eyes grew vibrant, as though it were already experiencing the feel of sinking its teeth into my papery skin. Watching me with reluctant eyes, it picked up its right foot and dragged it forward in the snow, hunching down so that the arch of its throat was brushing the ground.

I recoiled, terrified.

The corner of the wolf's jaw loosened on one side as it pulled itself back up from its hunched position and brought its foot back to where it had been before. My mouth hung open as I discovered what it was doing.

The wolf was teasing me.

Absurdly enough, I was offended by an animal. I walked away from the window exasperatedly, refusing to let that beast have control over me; I was the human, the dominant species – what ever happened to _it's more afraid of you than you are of it_?

I lifted up the telephone, enraged, punching the numbers. But, as it began to ring, I lost my determination.

What was I doing calling animal control? What would I say when they asked why I wanted rid of it? 'Because it's mocking me, and I want it off my property'? At first it sounded like a legitimate complaint, but the more I said it inside my head, the more ridiculous it sounded.

I slammed the phone back into the dock before anyone could pick up and glanced out the window. The wolf was gone. How could I be so petty that I let an animal play head games with me?

Startling me, there was a loud banging on the door.

I exhaled, calming myself, as I walked over to answer it. There was no reason to be frightened, I told myself. The beast obviously was just testing me, taking its chances. I doubt after Mason fooled it before, it still feels the need to put my life in jeopardy again – if dealing with Mason were the consequences, that is. All I have to do is not let it know that Mason wasn't here, and then I'd be safe.

I continued to ponder naively, overreacting, as I reached for the door.

"Good morning," Nathaniel greeted, his genuine smile instantly wiping all my worries away – or at least considering them irrelevant for the rest of the day.

"Ten o'clock already?" I sighed, grabbing my coat that had been hanging on the banister.

Nathaniel laughed as I slipped on my jacket.

Once we were out the door, I glowered, "Ice?" My shoulders fell in vexation. "Why me?"

"That's what I'm here for, remember?" He laughed, grabbing my forearm and helping me down the front steps. "I'm your Superman."

I smirked. "Just what the doctor ordered."

He helped me along the walkway and practically saved my life once we reached the drive – forget the wolf, black ice was my mortal enemy. Once we were safe and sound in his car, Nathaniel turned up the heat; as soon as the warmth crept through our jackets, we loosened up.

"So, what are we doing today?" I wondered as we backed out of the driveway. "And, please, don't say surfing. I doubt you guys are stupid enough to risk hypothermia."

"No," He chuckled. "Not even we are that stupid."

I grinned.

"Well, we're probably gonna spend the whole day at Robyn's," He replied, but then he added hastily, "But if you don't want to do that, that's okay."

"It's fine. Robyn's great," I smiled. "Besides, whatever you want to do is fine with me."

Nathaniel uttered a low laugh.

"What?" I looked over at him.

"I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable or anything," He simpered. "But, there are a lot of things that I would like to do with you."

"Okay," I swallowed. "That _does_ make me feel a bit uncomfortable."

"I thought it would," He sighed. "My friends think it's stupid, though."

I said nothing.

"I mean," He shrugged, pausing to think. He surprised me, talking like this so openly. "When you're twenty-five, is it valid to still call it a crush?"

I laughed, "I guess so." I was shocked at how relaxed I was too.

"I'm really sorry if this is weird for you," He apologized. "It's just I think that why even attempt a relationship if you can't be straightforward with someone?"

"That makes sense," I allowed. "And I'm sorry if this puts a damper on things or anything, but I hope you realize …"

He interrupted, "I'll wait."

I raised an eyebrow. "How long are you willing to wait?"

"As long as it takes," He answered, shrugging.

"What if it takes awhile?" I pushed my hair behind my ear, noting how his posture and expression never changed, no matter how awkward the conversation became; he remained at ease all the while.

"Then I'll wait awhile."

"Nathaniel, I want you to know something," I sighed, looking out my window as I spoke. "Even if we never start dating, I love you." In my mind, it wasn't a sudden statement, even though we hadn't been hanging out very long. It felt right to say it and, once it was out in the air, I knew that I meant it.

Now his disposition changed. "Hmm. You do?"

"Yes," I nodded. "And I always will."

"That changes things," he sighed.

I glanced over at him briefly but then my eyes returned to the passing scenery. "And what does that mean?"

"That changes things," he repeated, and then continued, "I'm even more confused than I was before."

"I don't mean to confuse you," I watched the lines on the road as they endlessly emptied into the horizon. "I meant to make it simpler."

"But I'm still confused, anyway," He watched me hesitantly. "If you love me, then why …?"

"Not that way," I corrected.

His voice grew small. "Oh."

"But I still love you," My eyes lingered over to him.

And I wished I hadn't. His eyes were despondently glued to the road, avoiding my gaze. His lips were curved down in one of those frowns where it seems unlikely the person will ever laugh or smile again. It was upsetting to see such a joyful person so crestfallen; and it was even worse to know that I'd caused his pain.

"I didn't mean to offend you …" I never tore my eyes away from him; that was the least I owed him – my attention.

"You've said that before," His said curtly.

"Well, maybe since I've said it twice, I actually mean it," I replied matter-of-factly, crossing my arms against my chest.

He turned to me, obviously enraged, "Well, have you ever thought that maybe since you've said it twice already, you're offending me a bit too much?"

He'd caught my flaw, but I refused to give up. "You can't assume that."

"And why can't I?" He spat, fuming.

My voice became so insignificantly inaudible, one could doubt that the words even came out of my mouth. "Because it only counts if I've said it three times, because that's the number where everything starts counting."

He laughed flatly at my stupidity, and I agreed with him by nodding.

"And who decided that?" He smirked.

"No one decided it," I shrugged, my voice still small. "It just happens that way. Fate decided it."

He frowned, his eyes returning to the road. "Fate decides a lot of things."

Piercing the silence, Nathaniel's cellphone rang, startling us both.

It was at his ear in seconds, "Hello?"

"Is it one of your friends?" I wondered.

"Shh," He shot a reprimanding glance in my direction. Then his attention returned to his call. "No, sir, I haven't yet but I …."

I figured it was a business call.

"Really?" Nathaniel exhaled exasperatedly. It was a long time before he said anything more into the receiver. "Yes, I'm still here …. Well, I have someone with me in the car right now, so I can't really …. Right, I understand. I'll see you in a couple minutes."

He pressed end and then threw his phone into the cup holder, provoked.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

"No," He sighed. "I'm sorry, but I have an urgent call and I have to go to the station. I can either drop you off at Robyn's or take you back to your house."

"I don't want to be alone," I shook my head.

"I know," He nodded. "So, I guess, that means I'm taking you to Robyn's. Sorry, I can't spend the day with you, but I'm sure you'll still have fun with my friends." He sped up a little faster, almost twenty over the limit.

"Won't you get a ticket?" I pointed to the speedometer.

He smirked, "I'm a cop. Cops don't get tickets."

"Can you answer something for me?" I wondered. He nodded hesitantly. "Does it have something to with Asher?"

"No," He frowned. "It's about the case on those wolves."

All color drained from my pale face, making me even whiter, if that were even possible. The dream was all I could think about – I couldn't even formulate words. I tried to push the picture away, but it was persistent.

"Two hikers died this morning," he continued. "A couple miles north, in the Hoh Forest. I hope we find these things before they get too close to your house."

"Too late for that."

"What did you just say?" Nathaniel's eyes darted over to me.

"I saw the wolf," my voice was barely articulate. "A couple minutes before you showed up, I saw it outside my kitchen window."

Nathaniel turned off the road and onto the incoherent shoulder – which was just a small patch of grass covered in muddy snow; mere feet sat between the road and the forest's edge – and slammed on the breaks, both of us jerking forward.

"Are you sure it was the wolf?" he turned to face me, watching me with urgent eyes.

"I-it didn't hurt me," I stammered.

"Yes, but have you seen more than one at a time?" He questioned.

"No," I shook my head. "I always see the same one."

"And it never tried to hurt you?" he raised an eyebrow. "Did it react?"

"Well, it kept stepping forward," I explained. "I think it was testing its limits, how far I would let it go."

Without another word, Nathaniel slammed the gear shift back into drive and then spun the wheel, swerving us back in the direction of Forks. We went from zero to eighty in a matter of seconds, zooming towards town. He didn't say a word as we hurried down the main street, so I didn't either, afraid that I would break his concentration.

It wasn't until we reached town – which was pretty much a highway with a bunch of amenities breaking off of it – that Nathaniel slowed and glimpsed over at me, "You are not speak unless spoken to, understood?"

I nodded.

He turned into a small parking lot, in front of which stood a small wooden building with the Forks seal on the side. The lot was crowded, dozens of police cars scattering the asphalt, along with one little silver Toyota on the far end. Nathaniel immediately parked and pulled the key out of the ignition, hopping out; he was making his way around the hood to open my door, but I was already out.

Nathaniel helped me up the icy steps absentmindedly.

Pushing open the front door for me, Nathaniel wrapped his arm around my waist, guiding me away from the bustle at the front desk and to the side of the room, where an impressive man in uniform stood.

His eyes were stern, beady, as he overlooked all the action that went on. His hair was dark and fading to gray, his face strewn with age. As Nathaniel and I approached him, the man's eyes remained austere.

Nathaniel nodded respectively, "Chief Donahue."

"That was fast, Redborn," The man's voice was gruff. "Hope you weren't speeding."

"Of course not, Chief," Nathaniel lied skillfully, pulling me closer.

Chief Donahue's eyes lingered on me only for a moment, "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"You know as well as I do that it's never smart to mix personal life and work," Nathaniel said politely, a practiced tone in his voice. "I wouldn't have brought her otherwise."

"Then why is she here?" Now the man fully appraised me. I wasn't sure if he approved – his impassive face was unreadable.

"She saw the wolf, Chief," Nathaniel reported. "It was by her house."

Donahue was about to speak, but the door on his left opened and immediately his attention was taken.

It was Coop, his eyes bloodshot and weary from working.

"Coop?" I raised an eyebrow. Nathaniel tightened his grip around me, reprimanding me for disobeying his request to remain silent. I ignored him. "What are you doing here?"

Coop seemed equally as surprised to see me. "I was just about to say the same to you."

"So much for a vacation, eh?" I smiled, trying to restore Coop's stamina at least a little before he passed out from exhaustion.

He laughed, shrugging, "Yeah."

"You know this guy?" Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," I nodded. "I work with him at the hospital."

"In that case," The chief exhaled, taking me from Nathaniel and handing me over to Coop. "Perhaps you could make use of yourself and help Dr. Cooper."

"There's not much more to examine," Coop shook his head and pushed me back into Nathaniel's grasp. "The couple is dead."

"There was nothing you could do?" Chief Donahue asked.

"Tried all I could," Coop frowned. "They're gone."

"Alright," The chief sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Redborn, you know what to do now, correct?"

Nathaniel grimaced, and then said grudgingly, "Yes, sir."

"Then get to it," Chief Donahue began to walk away with Coop in stride, but then he turned to look back at the two of us. "And how about this, kid? Once you get your job done, I'll let you go home for the day." His eyes retreated to me. "Looks like you've got a lot on your hands."

"Yes, sir," Nathaniel repeated, grabbing my hand.

Once the Chief was gone, Nathaniel relaxed, his shoulders slouching. He held my hand tightly, as if it were a life line, as if it were the only reason he was breathing right now. Walking slowly, he pulled me down a hallway and into a back room, pushing me gently into a chair once we got there.

The room was very small and very empty. There was only an old fashioned metal desk, massive and bulky in size. A chair sat in front of it and another sat behind it. On the desk were a few things: a telephone, a bunch of scattered papers and about a dozen pens pilled up into a pyramid. Altogether, the room was very grey, lifeless.

Letting go of my hand hesitantly, Nathaniel turned and shut the door.

"May I talk now?" I wondered.

"Yes," He exhaled – the way he breathed sounded like he'd been holding his breath. "You can talk now."

"You seemed very professional out there," I commented, smiling. He pulled up a fold-out chair and opened it up to sit beside me.

"I have to be," he leaned back in the chair, reaching out for my palm again.

"So, I have a question …"

"I thought you would," He laughed. His disposition grew composed – I guess that meant our dispute in the car had been forgotten.

"What is it you have to do now?" I wondered.

"Uh," he sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a long time, breathing a lot and talking a little. He squeezed my hand, almost in a pumping motion now, as if I were supplying him blood. "This is what I hate about my job. The new kid gets stuck with all the tough stuff."

"So, what's so difficult?" I asked, resting my elbows on my knees, not letting go of his hand – I knew he wouldn't allow it.

He glanced over at the telephone before answering, "I have to call the families of the two who died."

I looked away from him. "That sucks."

"It does …" He agreed, his voice disappearing into the uproar outside the door. That mob of police officers by the front door must not have left yet.

"But it has to be done," I finished for him.

Nathaniel face fell, nodding.

I interceded, "I could do it for you."

"You can't," he shook his head.

"Why not?" I sat up straight, instinctively reaching to flip my hair but he refused to let go of my hand even if it was just to fix the mop on my head. "I'm trying to be helpful."

"I know you are," He acknowledged. He sounded like he had lost all his energy in the past ten minutes. "And I really appreciate it. However, it's my job and I'm the one that has to do it."

I frowned, watching as his face grew gloomy. He reached over for the phone with the hand that wasn't cutting off the circulation in mine, but he indecisively pulled his hand away.

"Well, get to it," I exhaled. "And then, after you're done, we can go to Robyn's and we can be with your friends … and you can forget all about this for the rest of the day."

"Okay," he shook his head, picking up the phone and dialing in a number that was written down on a piece of paper behind him on the table.

He turned to look at me with uncertainty as the dial tone buzzed. Eventually, someone picked up on the other line.

"Hello," Nathaniel cleared his throat, his face become as emotionless as the Chief's had been. "This is a call from the Forks PD concerning your son, Peter …. I'm sorry, ma'am, but your son has passed."

All of sudden, there was a burst of muffled crying coming from the other line.

"Yes, his wife died as well," Nathaniel continued, his expression never faltering. He was very good at remaining cool, calm and collected. "There have been several attempts, but the pack has been getting closer to town. We should be able to kill 'em soon, there's nothing to worry about."

The woman said something, bawling uncontrollably.

"We'll get it – I promise," He vowed, and then as the woman said something else, Nathaniel sighed, "Your son was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and there is nothing we can do about it."

The person on the receiver made yet another remark, sniveling.

"You have a good day, ma'am," Nathaniel said politely, and then he shook his head, his emotions returning, "Ms. Daniels, I understand you're upset. Losing someone isn't easy, I know. But if there is anything I can do individually to help, I promise, I'll do it."

She said something quieter.

"No, the police wouldn't have anything to do with it," I frowned. "I'm actually not allowed to let any personal actions get in the way of work, but I …"

Silence for a moment.

"Well, I'm sorry I can't do much more, but I just want you to know that I'm always here to help you," He nodded caringly. There was silence as she responded. He continued, "Thank you so much. You're welcome. I try my best. Have a good day, Ms. Daniels."

And then he hung up.

"That was very sweet of you," I smiled.

"Do you even know what I did?" He looked deep into my eyes, as if he were searching for something.

"Well, I caught a good chunk of it," I lifted our intertwined hands, taking my other hand and making a little cup around his one hand. "I'm sure Chief Donahue wouldn't have tried to console her."

He looked out the window at the snow, ignoring me.

"And why did you say thank you?" I wondered.

"She said she was very grateful for my sympathy," he exhaled. "And that she would call the girl's parents for me. Turns out that couple had been just married – they moved to Forks about a month ago. Sad, isn't it?"

"Very," I agreed, but I was rather detached – my thoughts were far from the topic at hand; I was being selfish.

Marriage, huh? I wouldn't want to rush Mason, or try to pressure him in any way, but it would be nice. To have a man that loved me and would never leave me. To have and to hold, until death do we part. … I wouldn't dare put Mason in that position, though. Besides, it was up to him to decide anyway.

"Well," Nathaniel snapped me back to reality. I hadn't noticed he'd let go of my hand. "I feel like I'm exposing you to too much, little girl."

"What?" I stared up at him hazily as he stood.

"You're so secluded and then, all of a sudden, I bring to the hub of misfortune," He rubbed the nape of his neck. "I shouldn't have brought you to the station … at least you didn't see the bodies …"

I stood, putting my hands on my hips, smiling. "You don't have to treat me like your little toddler that you always have to be conscious of. I know what I'm doing; it's not like any of this is new to me."

Nathaniel put his hands up defensively. "Well, _excuse_ me, missy."

I laughed tiredly, standing.

"We better get to Robyn's before she wonders what we're up to," He reached forward and opened up the door, putting his arm over my shoulder and leading me out. "She's good at letting her imagination run wild."

All the tumult in the front room had subsided, the majority of the police officers now slowly filtering out to their cars one by one.

Nathaniel's arm drifted off my shoulder and down my arm to grip my hand just before we reached the front door. He lifted me down the icy steps effortlessly, stepping into the lightening snowfall. Once we reached his car, I stood by the passenger door as he went around the hood. As he fumbled for his keys, my eyes curiously wandered about the parking lot.

And my heart jumped into my throat.

I hadn't noticed before, but only several feet away from where I stood was an ambulance with flashing lights that practically blinded me. Coop stood by the rear of the vehicle, watching as two men piled a stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

On the stretcher was a young girl – well, young to me – twenty or twenty-one at least. Her body was limp, bloody; her skin was lifelessly pale, a sickly color almost. Blood drenched her golden hair: gashes were strewn randomly about her arms and legs, carelessly bandaged. Coop must've known, as soon as he began tending her wounds, that it was a lost cause.

As the two men that had been hoisting the stretcher into the ambulance shut the doors after putting her in, I felt my heart skip a beat.

Death was mercilessly bloodcurdling to me, a black hole that one day would consume us all, and I refused to let the fear get to me – otherwise, I would go off hyperventilating like an idiot.

* * *

><p>Robyn and Adam's cabin looked magical in the snowfall.<p>

In just the past few hours, all the leaves dropped from the trees like flies; now the evergreens were the only things left standing with protection.

Tommy's van was parked arbitrarily by the front porch, already buried in the blizzard. Alongside that vehicle was a different car, an elderly Chevy, probably from the mid-seventies; its paint was faded and wearing away. There was no snow on top of the car and its tire tracks were still fresh.

I glanced at Nathaniel, wondering if he knew who's automobile this was.

"Oh my god," He gulped.

"What's the matter?" I asked him, as he pushed the gearshift into park. Hesitantly, he unbuckled, not looking at me.

"My mother's here," His eyes were wide.

The look on his face was comical – it was as if he was a child, caught doing something he shouldn't have done. I smiled, concealing a laugh.

We climbed out of the car, Nathaniel cautious at first. Once we reached the front door, though, he seemed to gain a bit of confidence, but my hand was once again on the verge of being crippled by his tight grip.

Was this woman really that scary?

Nathaniel pushed open the front door, his foot not even in the first room before something or someone lunged for him.

He was so shocked that he let go of my hand, stumbling back onto the porch. I stepped away, out of the line of fire. The person on Nathaniel was hugging him as if she hadn't seen him in years, kissing his cheeks.

"Oh, Nathaniel!" She cried. "God dammit, boy, I don't know where the hell you run off to half the time. And you don't even call!"

"Mom …" Nathaniel stepped forward, dragging the woman along with him and shutting the door behind him once they were inside.

I heard laughter to my right and glancing over, I saw Tommy sitting at the head of the dining room table, a bunch of books sprinkled around him.

"Nathaniel, I was so worried!" the woman exclaimed. "Are you alright?" The woman stepped off of him then, holding his chin between her index finger and thumb and turning his face side to side in search of mortal wounds. She watched Nathaniel expectantly, "Are you okay?"

Nathaniel immediately exhaled, happy he was out of the woman's grasp and able to breath again. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around my waist again. "I'm fine, mom."

It was then that I first caught a glimpse of the woman.

She was about my height, if not a little bit shorter. Her brown eyes were flat, definitely not as profound as her son's. Her hair was down to about her shoulders, insanely curly as mine used to be, and black with little silver strands gracefully brushing her cheeks.

When Nathaniel said nothing, her sympathy was replaced with frustration. "Nathaniel Andrew Redborn, did I raise you to run off without telling people where you're going?" She paid no attention to my presence whatsoever.

"I told Robyn, mom," Nathaniel replied. "I …"

She interrupted. "You told her you were going to Forks and back."

"And I did," He shook his head, tightening his grip around me.

"It doesn't take three hours to get to Forks and back," She protested, putting her hands on her hips. She sounded strong, indefinitely sure of herself. "It takes an hour and a half at most."

"I stopped for breakfast," he sighed. "And had to run by the station …"

"And you didn't call to say you'd be a bit late?"

"I wasn't going to be late," He frowned. "Besides, late for what? Sitting around and watching TV? I doubt that I needed to call and let anyone know that I'd be late for that. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Robyn called me, asking if you came to my house," she exhaled, watching us with her careful eyes. "She was worried, no doubt, considering you didn't come back when you said you would. Mother's instinct, I suppose." – she paused to think – "But you should have called at least!"

"I'm sorry," Nathaniel grimaced, not looking his mother in the eyes.

"What were you doing in Forks anyway?" Ms. Redborn raised an eyebrow, still not noticing me.

"To pick up her," Nathaniel glanced over at me.

She appraised me with wide eyes, after which she looked back at her son, curious.

"That's his girlfriend!" Tommy shouted from the other end of the room, not looking up from any of his books.

"Is not, you little wretch!" Nathaniel shot back at him.

"Hey, watch your mouth," she admonished, walking up to me and taking my hand, the one that wasn't pressed up against Nathaniel. "Goodness, you get a girlfriend and don't even tell your mother? I feel so forgotten."

"She's not my girlfriend, mom," Nathaniel exhaled, eyeing Tommy still.

"Of course not," She rolled her eyes at her son, marvelously sarcastic. Her eyes returned to me. "Looks like I'm not the only girl in his life anymore. Oh, you should've seen the days when he was still afraid of cooties – he was such a yellow-belly when it came to girls."

"Mom!" Nathaniel protested, making me laugh.

"Relax, Nate," She teased. "I could be one of those mean mothers and pull out your baby pictures."

"Don't," he commanded, as she walked away from us and into the kitchen.

"Oh, I'm definitely tempted," She laughed, reaching into the fridge.

Nathaniel loosened his grip on me as we walked over to the dining room table – we both sat down in the mismatching chairs next to each other. Tommy was currently writing away frivolously on a deck of flashcards.

"What are you doing?" I wondered.

"I have exams starting tomorrow," he exhaled. "I just remembered 'bout them last night so I have to cram it all in by eight o'clock Monday morning."

"Ah, exams," I exhaled, recollecting my high school memories and then almost instantly shoving them away. "That was hell."

"Here," he pushed the flashcards in my direction as Nathaniel stood and walked over to the fridge. "Quiz me."

I watched Nathaniel amusedly as his mother began to fix his hair.

"Alright," I began, glancing down at the flashcard. "How many days are in a year?"

"That's not on my exam," Tommy shook his head, looking up at me. "Which flashcard are you looking at?"

"It's not on a flashcard – it's just common knowledge," I shrugged – my eyes floated over to Nathaniel. "What about you, Nathaniel? Do you know how many days are in a year?"

"I stopped counting," He smiled widely.

"C'mon, Scarlett," Tommy looked over at me. "I gotta get this down."

"Fine, fine," I exhaled, trying to decode Tommy's scribbled scrawl. "This term means you become guilty of a crime retroactively."

"I know this!" he sat up straighter his fingers drumming on the table. "It's something in Latin."

"Hey, Tommy," Nathaniel called over to us.

"Shut up, Nate," Tommy had his eyes closed now as he searched his brain for the answer. "I'm trying to think."

"Where's everybody else?" Nathaniel asked, nonetheless.

"I don't know," He shook his head. "They said something about going to Shane's to pick something up."

"Well, are they coming back?" Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.

"I think so," Tommy nodded, eyes still closed in meditation. "Now, shut up. I'm trying to concentrate."

"Don't strain yourself," Nathaniel laughed, pulling a soda from the fridge. Ms. Redborn sat at the kitchen table, flipping through a magazine.

I looked at the flashcard and then back up at Tommy again. "You want me to skip it?"

"No, no! I know this!" He exclaimed, rubbing his temples.

"Well, you keep thinking while I get a drink," I rolled my eyes, putting the flashcards back down and standing.

Nathaniel had a soda can extended in my direction by the time I reached him. He smiled as I leaned against the counter, "You wanna leave?"

"No," I exhaled. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I just thought you wouldn't want to spend the whole day sitting around studying," He grinned. We both glanced back at Tommy, who was stealthily trying to peek at the flashcards.

"No cheating," I called over to him. Guilty, he snapped his hand away.

"So, Scarlett," Ms. Redborn smiled at me, bringing my attention to her. "You live up in Forks?"

I nodded.

"I don't recall ever seeing you," She commented. "It used to be a talent of mine, knowing everybody in town."

"I moved here just a few months ago," I told her.

"Oh," she smiled at me, but then she glimpsed at Nathaniel with a hint of heartache in her expression. The grief faded in seconds, her friendly personality returning. "You like it in Forks I hope?"

"Yes, it's very nice," I nodded.

"Well, I'm glad you came along," She grinned. "It's nice to have someone to calm things down."

I raised an eyebrow, wondering what she meant.

"Hey, mom," Nathaniel smiled, putting his soda down on the countertop. "Scarlett and I are gonna go out the porch. We'll be right back."

"The hell you will," She scolded. "It's freezing out there."

"We'll sit in the car," Nathaniel rolled his eyes, quickly grabbing our coats and guiding me to the front door.

He didn't head for his car like he'd told his mom. Instead, he walked over to the end of the porch, leaning against the banister and looking out at the falling snow. I sauntered over to him, wrapping my jacket tightly around me.

"You want to talk to me?" I guessed.

"Sorry about my mom," He shook his head. "She's very headstrong."

"I noticed," I giggled. "But she seems really nice."

"Yeah," He shrugged, exhaling.

"So what did she mean in there?" I asked. "'It's nice to have someone to calm things down'? And what was that look she gave you?"

"She's still kind of mad at me about everything," He told me.

"About you running away?"

He glanced over at me curiously. "How did you know about that?"

"Robyn told me," I looked out at the snow. "I must admit, I'm surprised."

"Why?" He raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't everyone hope that the grass is greener on the other side? Don't tell me you never thought of running."

"Of course, everyone feels like making a run for it sometimes," I exhaled. "But you ran off without telling anyone … because you were scared and lost. You had no idea where to go or what to do."

He said nothing in response.

"Remind you of anyone?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Are you really going to bring up that Asher Mason kid now?" He looked away from me and into the woods.

"Yes, I am," I crossed my arms across my chest, but my bulky jacket made that difficult. "How could you have no sympathy for him if he's so much like you? He's just as confused as you were …"

Nathaniel interrupted. "I wasn't confused."

"C'mon," I laughed flatly. "You had to be a little bit crazy and impulsive."

"No," He shook my head. "Ask Robyn. I had it all planned out. I knew when I was going to run and I knew where to. And I was levelheaded the whole time … well, towards the end, I got a little crazy."

"How could a teenager plan his escape out?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Just plan it," He shrugged, watching me out of his peripheral vision.

"I don't think you understand my question," I shook my head. "How can something like that be planned? I thought it was all spontaneous and random …"

"I'm thinking you never planned to run in depth, did you?" He smiled.

"No," I sighed. "After college, I eventually came back home. But, you abandoned your family and friends like it was no big deal."

"It _was_ a big deal for me, Scarlett, there's no doubting that," He frowned.

"Then why was it so easy for you to just …" I took a big breath. "Run?"

There was a long silence between us, and only the wind was brave enough to break it. Nathaniel stared at me, but I could tell there was a lot going on behind those chocolate eyes. I remained inert, not sure if I should say something or let him think in peace.

Finally, he said, "How did you feel when Mason left you?"

The name felt like a thousand nails were punctured into my heart. _Why does this hurt so much? _I thought angrily. _He's coming back. Just wait!_

"Are you going to answer me?" Nathaniel raised an eyebrow after a few quiet moments.

"No," I replied in a small voice.

"Just answer it," He pressed.

"I felt thick and lost and anxious and petrified and …." I stopped before the tears could come.

"Well, that's exactly how I felt," He shook his head. "Why not run?"

I paused, my mind racing. I repeated after him, "Why not run."

"It hurts, doesn't it?" He exhaled. "To feel alone."

There was a short hiatus where not even the wind dare speak.

"I've been alone for a long time," He frowned. "Always believing that she would come back. Always hoping that one day I'd see her again. But then I realized she can't come back. She's gone for good."

I wanted to speak, but my mouth refused to open to release how I felt.

"So, when I found you," He exhaled. "I felt whole again. I'd refused to let anyone in for seven years, but then you came along and I just … needed you."

"I know where this conversation is headed so I'm just gonna say it now," I shook my head. "I can't think of you that way."

"I know!" He laughed as if he had just heard a bad joke. "You don't have to keep reminding me, because every time you do, I forget you said it two minutes later. You can't stop me from loving you."

I rolled back on my heels, biting my lip.

"The reason," He paused. "… my mother said it's nice to have someone to calm things down …"

He stopped to inhale, and then let it all out in one massive breath.

"Is because she's afraid," He shook his head. "Everyone is … of me. Not of me exactly, but of me _running_ again. It wasn't until I got back that I realized I wasn't the only one that felt the pain while I was gone."

He paused again.

"I was selfish enough," He continued. "To believe that I would return to open arms, I'd be treated like a hero for being a good little boy and coming home. What a shock it was to come back to a bunch of slaps in the face."

He paused again.

"My cheek was stinging red for weeks," He laughed silently.

"Well, what do I have to I do with any of that?" I snapped, avoiding his eyes. "How am I going to 'calm things down'?"

"Everyone is so glad you're here now," He answered. "They think, if you stay, I will, too."

I glimpsed over at him, but then looked away.

"They don't want me to leave again," Nathaniel sighed. "And I can't hurt them again."

After a long while, I spoke, "And they think I'll make you stay put?"

"Yes," He nodded.

"I'm your motivation?" I sighed, almost angrily.

"Yes," He said again.

"I'm a bit of a hindrance to myself," I frowned. "What makes you think that I can help you if I'm in need of help myself?"

He nodded, pausing to contemplate. The snow began to blow malevolently this way and that, a torrent of flurries sprinkling from the clouds. After a few moments of deep thought, he replied, "You know how you made a deal with me?"

"Yeah, for three weeks, I'm yours," I reiterated.

"Well, how about I make a treaty with you?" He suggested.

I exhaled, staring deep into his chocolate eyes as if expecting to find an outline of every single thing he thought. "What do you propose?"

"It's quite similar to yours," He explained. "If in three weeks, I can't show you I love you to the best of my ability, I will willingly let you go."

"Is it all really that easy?" I stared at him disbelievingly.

"Is it required to be much harder?" He countered, staring at me with a certain light in his eyes.

"Alright, then," I extended out my hand. "It's a deal."

"No, it's not a deal," He smirked, walking around me and opening up the front door for me to enter. "It's a promise."


	11. Chapter 10

The following days were the same as the first.

Each day I woke, dressed and waited until mid-morning. Then Nathaniel would come for me and we'd drive down to the Reservation – none of our car rides were ever as tense as that one day; the both of us tried our best to keep the conversation light.

Nathaniel's friends became mine as well. Robyn became reinforcement for positivity, Adam became an older brother, and the rest were appreciated comic relief. With each passing day, I could feel the tears giving up – as if they knew that I wouldn't being crying any time soon. Mason evaded my mind almost permanently when I was with them, but I knew that – even if I didn't feel his presence – Mason was still there, in the back of my head.

Nathaniel was good at occupying my attention.

Until nightfall, that is.

The dream continued to haunt me. About a week after the nightmare had started its raid, screaming began. Which was terribly unhealthy, I knew. I would wrench awake, shrieking at the top of my lungs until my cries became just a pitiable whimper. Every night the nightmare seemed as real and new to me as the first time I saw it.

However, one thing that never returned was the wolf.

It remained in my dream, of course, teeth pointed and eyes daunting me, but I never saw it again in reality. Every morning, I stood at my kitchen window, glaring out as if I expected the beast to jump forward out of nowhere and crash through the glass. But that monster never came …. I'd mulled over all this, of course; perhaps, it was planning its attack or waiting for just the right moment.

Nevertheless, I tried my best to get hold of myself, refusing to overreact.

Today was Saturday – exactly a week since the first day I went the Reserve with Nathaniel. And today, I'd planned to go to Robyn's just like I had for the past week, but Coop had called me, asking for our little movie day. I decided it was a good idea – the Quileutes needed a break from a killjoy like me, whether they knew it or not.

Around six o'clock in the morning, I woke from the nightmare, drenched in sweat and horrified to tears (it seemed that my fight wasn't over yet). By eleven in the morning, I was sitting in my kitchen, a coffee cup in my hands, awaiting Coop's arrival.

Making me jolt, the phone rang.

"Hello?" I exhaled into the receiver once I'd reached the phone.

"Finally, you picked up your phone!" A voice exclaimed. "For a second I thought you got lost or something."

"Oh, hey, Lilli," I recognized her voice instantly. "Sorry, I've been out of the house a lot lately."

"Doing what?" She wondered.

I had no intention of letting her know how senile I was lately. Which meant, letting her know about Nathaniel was out of the question. So I lied, "Overtime."

"Well, I've been trying to call you," She mused. "Guess what? I got a boyfriend! He's so nice – I can't wait for you to meet him."

"That's great," I smiled.

"Yeah, his name is Anthony and he is so nice," She bubbled, her voice brighter than I'd heard it in awhile. "Guess what else? He's from Seattle! Isn't that great? What a coincidence that we happened to run into each other in Japan of all places."

"Wow," I exhaled tiredly. "That's cool."

"I'm going on a date with him tomorrow," She told me.

"I hope you have fun," I smiled halfheartedly, happy for her but too sleep deprived to express it. "I'm waiting for Coop to come over – we're going to watch _Twilight_."

"That sounds so fun," She said, and then she took a deep breath. "You can't believe how much I miss you guys. _New Moon_ was on pay-per-view in my hotel room the other night and I thought of you. I'm homesick."

"Well, as soon as you get back," I vowed. "We're going to have a _Twilight_ marathon, just you and me."

"I'll hold you to that," She sniffed. There was a voice in the background before she spoke again, "I have to go. I'll call you back later."

"Okay, bye," I grinned.

After a quick farewell, Lilli was gone. It seemed that whenever she called me, it felt like I was sitting with her, face to face. However, as soon as she hung up, I remembered she was thousands of miles away on the other side of the ocean.

I felt guilty for not telling her about Mason or Nathaniel. She was my best friend, and it wasn't like keeping something from her was all that painless. But I knew that if I told her, there would just be even more fuss if something should happen – if anything ….

Nonetheless, telling her didn't seem very necessary – it would be just some superfluous nonsense over something that didn't matter. Besides, I could always tell her when she got back – we could always cross that bridge when we got to it.

Crashing my train of thought, there was a knock on the door.

I rushed to get it, glad Coop was here to get my mind off things. Opening the door, Coop's comforting smile appeased me in an instant.

"Hey, Coop," I greeted.

"Well, good morning, girly," He grinned, leaning forward and kissing me on the top of my head. "How goes life without your Prince Charming?"

"Ugh, not so good," I shook my head, taking his jacket from him and throwing it over the banister. "I miss him … a lot." I took a deep breath.

"Obviously," He rolled his eyes, walking into the living room and setting himself down casually on the couch.

Coop was dressed informally today. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt that was very formfitting on him, and dark blue jeans. His hair was in disarray too, very greasy and haphazardly tossed about his head.

I walked over to him slowly, standing over him with a questioning gaze in my eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Hmm?" He raised an eyebrow, looking up at me naively.

"Obviously?" I repeated it exactly as he'd said it.

"Oh, don't try to cover it up, Scarlett," He exhaled, hanging his arm on the back of the sofa coolly.

"Cover what up?" My eyes narrowed as I sat down beside him.

"I haven't forgotten about running into you at the police station," He said. "Don't think I didn't notice the way he looked at you. Don't think I didn't notice the way he held you."

"What?" I watched him skeptically.

"Stop playing dumb," He sighed. "What do you think you're doing? I know I said you need other human life to survive, but I can't believe you'd run into some other guy's arms as soon as Mason walks out the door. Besides, didn't you meet that young cop only like a week or two ago?"

"Nathaniel?" I shook my head. "No, you don't understand. There's nothing going on between us. He's just a friend."

"It seems to me that he's got a little more than friendship on his mind," Coop looked away from me for a moment.

"I know," I nodded. "And he knows that I don't like him back. I promise there is nothing happening."

"Oh," Coop allowed, but then he added, "Wait. Does this kid know Mason is coming back?"

I looked down at my hands for a moment, frowning. "I haven't told him."

"Are you an _idiot_?" Coop sat up straight, staring at me with wide eyes. I would've laughed at his comical expression, but I couldn't find the voice to.

"I was going to tell him," I said, my tone small. "But then …"

"But then what?" Coop's voice was reprimanding.

"But then I saw how happy being with me made him," I explained. "I just didn't want to ruin our friendship."

"Listen, sweetie," Coop sighed, looking at me with a newfound depth in his eyes. "You can't bounce back and forth between the two – eventually, you're going to have to make up your mind."

"Why does there have to be a choice!" I felt the urge to explode.

"Because that's what has to happen," Coop said softly, trying to calm me down. "You can't keep expecting one of them to eventually back off."

I paused.

Coop was right, and I knew it, but there was no way I would admit it. The day when Mason came back, what would happen then? Would it become an all-out battle between the two of them?

"I don't want to talk about this," I crossed my arms across my chest. "Can't we just watch the movie?"

"I'm debating which is better," He joked, smiling at me widely. "Discussing your love life or watching a vampire romance. It's a tough call."

Coop had always been good at making me laugh when I felt upset. "Well, I prefer vampire romance, so I guess you'll just have to deal with it."

"Fine," He smirked as I stood to put the DVD in the set. "Which one are we going to watch?"

"Whichever you want," I permitted, bending down to find the case.

"Well, I don't want to watch the first one – I had a girlfriend who took me to see it in theaters _twice_," He complained. "And _New_ _Moon _has too many shirtless guys. I don't want you to start drooling all over the place."

I laughed.

"And the third, well, that one was just …" He continued to grumble.

But I interrupted, "Coop? Can I tell you something?" I turned to face him.

"What?" He looked at me with hesitant eyes.

"I've been having a … dream," I walked over and sat beside him, tapping my fingertips nervously against _Twilight_'s DVD case.

"Well, I'm a doctor," He shrugged. "Not a psychiatrist."

"I'm not asking you to decode it for me or whatever," I waved my hand carelessly. "I just want to tell someone about it, get it off my chest, you know?"

"Alright," He exhaled. "What's it about?"

"I first had it the night Mason left," I began. "And it's been the same ever since. I explained the scene as in depth as I could manage.

"Is that all?" Coop wondered after a silent minute had passed.

"No," I shook my head. "I'm running, and I see light up ahead. But then I come out only to realize I went in a circle. And waiting in the field is that wolf that attacked Mason. And the wolf jumps for me …."

Coop raised an eyebrow as I finished.

"And then I wake up," I finished, looking to Coop for an explanation.

We were both silent for a long time, the patter of light rain on the roof being the only noise. I could feel Coop's eyes on me, but I didn't look at him; I fiddled with the DVD case in my hands, rubbing my palm across the embossed title.

"It sounds unfinished to me," Coop stated after several silent minutes.

"What do you mean?" I glanced up at him, but then back down at the case.

"Well, does the wolf get you? Does it back off?" Coop inquired. "What?"

"I don't know what happens," I shrugged. "It always stops while the wolf is airborne. I'm not sure if it gets me or not."

"Then it has to be unfinished," He decided, running his hand through his hair.

"Alright then," I exhaled, tracing my fingers around Edward's golden eyes. "But that still doesn't tell me what all of this means."

"I'm totally just winging it here, so don't blame me if these aren't the accurate answers you're looking for," He paused for a couple minutes, thinking.

I watched him with curiosity.

After a few moments, he began, "Well, the first part is pretty easy. The fact that you're just wandering around and can't find Mason is obviously symbolizing Mason's absence. But I don't really understand what Nathaniel speaking with Mason's voice means." He paused, and then picked up again. "After you find out that it's not Mason, does Nathaniel talk with his own voice?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Well, then maybe it means you're being hoodwinked," He guessed.

"By who?" I asked, sighing and watching as Coop pondered.

"I don't know," He exhaled finally. "But possibly it's more of a figurative trick. Maybe it means that you are confusing yourself … that you shouldn't be with one and should be with the other."

I sighed, glimpsing up at him. "Tell me, Einstein, which is which?"

"Maybe that's what _you_ have to figure out," Coop determined. "To unlock the other half of the dream, you have to figure something out."

I shrugged, nodding. "That's pretty smart."

"I'm better at this than I thought," He chuckled, proud of himself.

"But _how_ do I figure it out?" I asked.

"Let's keep digging, shall we?" Coop continued. "The part where you're running away from Nathaniel and he said he'd love you more than Mason – maybe that means that the two are competing for your affection …"

"I figured that," I smirked.

"Let me finish," Coop reprimanded and then went on, "Maybe the dream is trying to tell you something, an answer or something along those lines."

"Sure," I glimpsed out the window, watching the rain as I spoke, "But _what is the answer_?"

"When you were running," Coop's eyebrows furrowed. "You were running away from Nathaniel, right?" When I nodded, he continued, "Well, what were you running to?"

"I don't know," I replied. "I just remembered I wanted to get away."

"Running away from your problems, no doubt," He smiled.

I paused, my eyes floating back down to the cover of _Twilight_. "Doesn't everyone hope the grass is greener on the other side?" I whispered silently.

All Coop caught was an incoherent mumble. "What was that?"

"Why not run," I muttered under my breath, the words at least somewhat articulate to Coop's ears this time.

"Starting fresh always does feel good," Coop acknowledged. "Feeling the pleasure that your problems are finally behind you."

"Yeah," I laughed curtly.

"But I can't let you do it," Coop shook his head, avoiding my eyes.

"Is it up to you?" I'd wanted my tone strong, but it was hardly audible.

"I can't let you run," He responded. "Not now, at least. Think of the people you'd hurt."

I said nothing.

"When you were out sick," Coop explained. "Krista said nothing but 'I hope Scarlett gets better' and 'I hope she's back soon'. And how do you think that Nathaniel kid would take it if he wakes up one morning, and you aren't there? And Mason? What do you think he'd feel if he came home to an empty house?"

I still remained silent.

"And what about me?" He frowned. "You're my best friend. You're like family to me."

"I don't know," I could hardly hear my own voice.

"Well then," Coop sighed, his eyes looking away from me. "I guess Forks isn't for everyone. Have fun somewhere else."

"I'm not going to leave," I finalized. "But how do I figure all this out?"

"Don't stress out," Coop smirked, pushing my hair out of my eyes. "Maybe this dream means nothing, so I don't think you should worry …"

I interrupted, explosive. "Maybe, maybe, maybe! I don't want any maybes, Coop! I want to _know_ what to do and I want to _know_ that everything's going to be okay. I want Mason to be back and I want Nathaniel to stop pressuring me, and I don't want to make a choice! I want everything to be set in stone – I can't take any maybes right now!" All the words were unintentionally jumbled together.

As I heaved, breathless, Coop smiled, "Are you done?"

"Just tell me what it means, Coop," I sighed, craning my head back and staring at the ceiling. "Just tell me what it all means."

"Well, I guess …"

"No guessing," I took a deep breath. "Just tell me."

"The dream must be telling you that you'll have to choose," He answered. "But, from the looks of it, I think your head is Team Nathaniel."

I said nothing.

"Perhaps Mason isn't right for you," He shrugged.

"Don't even go there!" I shot up to a standing position, grimacing at him.

"From what I've seen, Mason was here for a couple days and then left," He explained his reasoning. "He seemed like a nice guy from what I saw of him. But it looks like Nathaniel is pretty loyal and considerate to step in and comfort you."

I grinded my teeth, slowly sitting back down on the couch.

"But you've known Mason your whole life," Coop exhaled. "So I guess … I _know_ you know better than anyone."

"That doesn't answer anything!" I fumed. "I just …"

"Stop," Coop grabbed me by the wrist, smiling at me carefully. "Stop."

"Stop what?" I whined, trying to pull away.

"Stop worrying," He obliged, letting go of my wrist. "Besides, I've decided which is better."

"Is that so?" I stood, still a bit aggravated.

"I rather watch a vampire romance than discuss your love life," He sneered.

I simpered, figuring that I shouldn't be putting all my problems on Coop's shoulders. Finally, deciding to shut up, I pushed play.

We watched _Eclipse_, and after which, all of the special features – against Coop's will, of course. Amazingly enough, though, he seemed to enjoy the movie, paying as close attention as I did.

But I assumed he did it for my benefit; I doubted, if he were given the choice, he'd choose to watch this of all movies with me.

After exploring the DVD thoroughly, scouring the special features and watching as many interviews as possible, we ambled into the kitchen, devouring a tub of ice cream I found in the freezer.

By then, it was probably two-thirty.

"So he's a doctor, he's muscular," Coop mused as he dug his spoon into his chocolate ice cream, sitting down at the kitchen table. "And he can cook? I must say, I'm impressed. Guess I should step up my game before he woos every available girl in town."

"You don't have to worry about that," I grinned, leaning against the countertop by the microwave. "He's taken."

Coop laughed, "So, do you think he's the right guy? Not a come-and-go?"

I slid my spoon into my mouth, taking another bite of the ice cream before I continued, "There's just something about him. We … fit."

"Well, I'm glad you'll have someone to take care of you from here on out," Coop sat his bowl down on the table. "With Lilli gone, I was beginning to wonder how you were coping."

"I'll be well taken care of," I exhaled, walking over to the sink and dropping my bowl in the basin.

"I hope so," He grinned, standing and placing his dirty dish in the sink.

"Hey, by the way," I giggled, glancing at him. "I'm loving the new look. The whole grunge thing really works for you."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, running his hand through his hair again.

"Oh, yeah," I smiled, turning to face him. "The greasy messy hair, the plain t-shirt, dark pants. Add some plaid and you could be Robert Pattinson."

He laughed unreservedly, "I wouldn't call it grunge. I'd call it calamity."

I reached forward, rubbing the top of his head with my hand playfully.

"I woke up like this," He admitted, pulling the hem of his shirt down.

"Oh, so you're going for the accidental charm," I teased.

"I guess," He shrugged, laughing and sitting back down. "Well, I …" Coop was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Sorry," I exhaled, pushing off the counter and heading for the foyer.

"No problem," He sighed as I reached for the door handle.

It was Nathaniel, cutely dressed to say the least. He was currently wearing a pair of checkered flannel pajama pants, yellow and black specifically. His hair was a mess, not even gelled like usual; I guess today was national bad-hair day – I never got the memo. Glimpsing around his burly body, I saw his Ford was still running in my driveway, Shane and Justin jabbering in the backseat.

"Hey, Scarlett," He said, his breath visible in the cold air. "I know you said you were going to spend the day with a friend, but I think there's something you might want to see."

"Like what?" I wondered, already enthralled. I'd always hated surprises.

"Well, do you have time to come down to the Rez?" He asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Scarlett? Is everything okay?" Coop asked, wandering into the hall and catching sight of Nathaniel.

"Oh, hey, Dr. Cooper," Nathaniel greeted politely.

"Hey, Nathaniel," Coop greeted casually in return.

"He says there's something down at the Reservation I might want to see," I filled Coop in on what he'd missed. "But, I …"

"No, no," Coop shook his head, snatching his coat off the banister. "Go ahead. I should be going anyway. I need to get home to feed my goldfish."

"I didn't know you had a goldfish," I smiled, grabbing my coat out of the side closet. Nathaniel held the front door open for us as we stepped out.

Once we were down the front steps, I slowed to walk beside Nathaniel, Coop in front of us.

"Yeah, well, I think I'm doing something wrong," Coop shrugged jokingly. "Damn thing sure takes a lot of naps – every time I look at it, its lying on those pebbles like its dead or something."

Nathaniel and I exchanged amused glances.

Once we reached the Ford, Nathaniel walked around the hood and opened the passenger door for me politely. After opening my door, he headed back around to the other side, getting in the driver side. Coop unlocked his Toyota, about to climb in when I called to him.

"Bye, Coop," I smiled, one foot in the car and the other not – I uncoordinatedly tried to balance on the one foot, but the slippery pavement forced me to hold on to my ajar door. "I had fun today. Thanks."

"See ya later," Coop smiled. I was about to get in Nathaniel's car when Coop stopped me, "Oh, and Scarlett?"

"Yeah?" I smiled.

"Have fun," He smiled. "Don't be a party-pooper."

"I promise, _dad_," I joked, turning to step into Nathaniel's car.

Coop stopped me again. "But, Scarlett?"

"Yeah?" I exhaled turning to him again.

"Not too much fun," He winked at me, climbing into his own car before I could respond.

"Thanks for the advice," I waved, rolling my eyes.

The ride down to the Rez was definitely not a quiet one.

All the way there, the speakers were blasting an alternative rock group I'd never heard of before – there was a bit too much screaming for my taste at first, but once the ride progressed I came to like it. I think the boys singing along, purposefully off key, helped a bit, making me laugh.

Every comment that came out of their mouths was hilarious, good-humoredly mocking one another. Their buoyant cheeriness amused me, causing me to forget the heavy conversation I'd shared with Coop earlier almost in an instant. I'd finally heard the prom story; it wasn't as dramatic as I'd thought it would be. Dylan had just pulled down Nathaniel's pants in front of everyone.

However, I guess it takes just one moment to painstakingly embarrass someone for the rest of their life.

I had never had one of those moments; I rarely exposed myself to the opportunity. After my first homecoming freshman year, I'd decided never to go to a public event that involved dancing ever again – it was just too easy to mortify myself. However, Mason had been the only one to change my mind. Only someone as convincing as him could've swayed me to go to prom.

Just the memory of his face sent my emotions flaring.

But I refused to let myself cry, not in front of Nathaniel or the other guys, at least. It would only make them feel awkward, I knew. So, instead, I remained jovial for their sake. I didn't want to spoil their fervent moods.

"So can you just tell me what this surprise is?" I wondered as we crossed the La Push border line.

"Just wait until we get to Robyn's," Shane laughed. "I think you'll like it."

"Can't you give me a hint?" I implored.

"Nope, no hints," Nathaniel refused. "You'll just have to wait."

"Hey, Scarlett," Justin grabbed my attention, distracting me. "What was that garbage out in your driveway?"

"That was not garbage," I crossed my arms across my chest, throwing an affronted glance back at Justin. "That's my truck."

"Oh, I thought it was scrap metal," Shane laughed. "That monster is old enough to be my car's great-grandfather."

"Don't mock my baby," I admonished. "It's a classic, and it runs great."

"I'm sure," Nathaniel joined in, turning down Adam and Robyn's private drive. "And I'm sure in a couple years it'll be one of a kind."

Shane added, "The _only_ one of its kind … that is if it doesn't disintegrate."

"You should see it on the road," I said. "It's undefeated in accidents."

"I doubt it even goes over fifty," Justin laughed.

"It goes up to fifty-five, thank you very much," I grinned, jokingly punching Nathaniel in the forearm as he laughed at me.

"Alright, guys," Nathaniel smiled, putting it into park as we pulled up to the house. "Enough bagging on Scarlett's truck."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Enough bagging."

"Fine, fine," Shane chuckled, hopping out of the car.

Nathaniel was about to go around and open my door for me, but Justin jumped out and beat him to it. After everyone was out of the car, we all dashed under the porch to escape from the rain, which had morphed from a light drizzle to a fatal downpour. Justin shook out his hair, blithely drenching all of us. Nathaniel then opened the front door, the three of them letting me enter first.

"So can you tell me now?" I looked back at them as they walked into the kitchen area.

"Look for yourself," Shane smiled, shrugging off his coat.

"Oh, Scarlett! You're here!" Robyn's voice called from the living room.

"Come look!" I heard Tommy shout from the same direction.

I walked over to the other side of the room, noticing the whole gang sitting on the sectional. And sitting in Robyn's lap was an adorable little Husky puppy, probably only a couple weeks old by the look of it. Its fur was a creamy off-white, but its belly was a soft auburn color. Its eyes were wide and deep brown, curiously examining his surroundings. He watched the four of us as we entered.

Sitting down on the couch beside Robyn, I reached out scratched the back of the dog's ear. "He's adorable. Where'd you get him?"

"We found him sitting out by my truck," Zach smiled, extending his hand to rub the puppy's back.

"Did you find out if it belongs to anybody?" Nathaniel asked, sitting down on the couch beside me.

"No one's called about him yet," Adam shrugged. "And you know how we thought he wriggled out of his collar somewhere? We didn't find it anywhere outside." Adam watched in adoration as his wife played with the puppy. "So, I'm thinking he's a stray or something."

"Oh, Adam, can we keep him?" Robyn bubbled excitedly.

"I don't know," Adam exhaled. "What if he has rabies or …"

"C'mon, Adam," Dylan laughed, interrupting. "Lighten up."

"Please? You know how long I've wanted I dog," Robyn smiled, as the dog jumped into my lap.

"I think he likes you, Scarlett," Nathaniel said, the puppy licking my face.

The Husky then turned to Adam, looking at him with wide eyes and tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Aw, be a good sport, Adam," I joked, picking up the puppy's paw and waving it at him. "Are you cruel enough to say no to that face?"

Adam exhaled, "Well, I guess we could keep him."

"Thank you so much, baby!" Robyn leaned over and kissed her husband on the cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"But if someone calls or signs start to show up asking for him," Adam conditioned. "You have to give him back."

"I promise to give him up without a fight," Robyn swore.

"You sure?" Adam sighed, putting his arm around Robyn's shoulders.

"Cross my heart," Robyn smiled.

"What are you going to name him?" Justin wondered, sitting on the couch's arm by Nathaniel.

"You should name him Fluffy," Dylan's voice teased from over in the kitchen. I hadn't noticed that he had left the rest of the group on the sectional.

Robyn ignored Dylan. "What do you think, Scarlett?"

"It should be something unusual," I smiled as the puppy licked my palm excitedly. "You should give him a Quileute name or something Native American."

"That sounds cool," Tommy agreed, watching the dog's tail wag across the couch cushion. "Got any ideas?"

"I don't know," I shrugged.

"How about Cherokee?" Justin suggested.

"You really want this poor animal to walk around with a name like that?" Zach teased. "How'll we tell him to come? Bird calls?"

Everyone laughed.

"Hey, honey," Robyn's eyes brightened as they traveled to her husband. "Why don't we name him Seth?"

For some reason, everyone's faces immediately fell, especially Adam's. The silence was practically tangible – it felt as though the puppy and I were the only ones breathing. It was almost like Robyn's words had released some toxic gas into the air and everyone else was smart enough not to inhale it.

"I-I …" Adam was the first to break the silence. "I don't like that name."

Instantly after he spoke, Adam stood, walking around the rest of the group and down the hallway branching off from the kitchen. There was silence for a moment, the rain obnoxiously pounding on the metal roof, and then a door slammed. All the Quileutes exhaled exasperatedly as Robyn stood to go console her husband. I looked back at the group, utterly confused.

Everyone just stared blankly at nothing.

"What was that all about?" I muttered silently, but I knew that each one of them had heard me.

"So," Nathaniel put his arm around my shoulder. "About that name."

As if cued, each of the boys put content smiles on their faces, pretending that the uncomfortable moment hadn't even happened. I decided to let it be for now – I could always ask Nathaniel later.

"I still think Cherokee is a pretty good name …" Justin tried.

Dylan interrupted, walking over with a soda in hand. "Give it up, man."

"Hey, how about Hawk?" Nathaniel grinned down at the dog in my hands with a caring look as he scratched just under its jawbone.

"Hawk?" I raised an eyebrow, watching as the dog's eyelids drooped and his tail wagged enthusiastically as Nathaniel continued to rub his neck, noticeably appreciative.

"Yeah, I can tell by looking at the little guy right now," Nathaniel smiled, and then said the next part with a grunting tone, "Hawk grow to be great warrior."

I giggled, looking down at the Husky's wide brown eyes. "What do you think, boy? You like the name Hawk?"

The puppy barked once, a high pitched sound that I knew would deepen with age. I knew Nathaniel was right – this dog would grow to be aggressive. Huskies were no joke; these things could grow huge … like wolves.

"Well, I think Hawk's an awesome name," Tommy smiled.

"Yeah, we should raise him to be a guard dog or something," Shane mused.

"He'll get the job done, that's for sure," Zach shrugged. "Huskies can kill people – or so I've heard."

_Kill_, my mind raced, retreating to my dream as the wolf leapt for me.

"Hey, honey, you okay?" Nathaniel wrapped his arm around me, rubbing just below my shoulder. "You look kind of scared."

"I'm not scared," I lied. "Just tired."

Nathaniel bought my lie.

"I'm just going to take a drive, Robyn," Adam's voice echoed from down the hall as the sound of a door turning on its hinges creaked.

"Adam, the roads are slick, maybe you should …" Robyn tried to pull him back by the shoulder as they swiftly made their way out of the hallway.

Adam shrugged her hand away, not hesitating to walk out the door and to his van. The rest of the Quileutes looked away from the couple, pretending not to notice them, while Robyn worriedly stood in the doorway, watching the van as it roared away.

I, unlike the rest of the boys, was unable to bare her unsettled expression.

I stood, walking over to her in an instant. She didn't turn to face me, but I knew she knew I was behind her. "Did you fight?"

Without a word, she whirled around, wrapping me in a hug.

I wrapped my arms around her.

"It'll be okay," I rubbed the back of her head as she silently sobbed into my shoulder. I didn't dare ask what had happened or what had caused the fight – even I knew better than that.

"He'll be back," She exhaled noisily. "He just needs time to think, that's all. And he's not mad at me, he's not mad at me."

I couldn't decide who she was trying to convince, herself or everyone else.

"You'll know it, Scarlett," She pulled back, her eyes only taking notice of me and ignoring all of the other staring eyes behind us.

"Know what?" I asked softly.

"Love when it hits," She tried to smile but it was a failed attempt, tears beginning to run down her face. "You'll know it when you discover you truly care about someone and that you'd do anything to help them. And even when you hurt them or they hurt you, it'll be o-okay." Her sobs broke the sentence at the end.

"You and Adam love each other," I told her what she wanted to hear. "And that's all that matters."

"I know," She sniffed, leaning back into a hug.

"Love is a gift," I sighed. "Pain is just the ugly wrapping paper."

She laughed, which had been my intention – I didn't have to see her smile to know that she felt at least a little bit better.

"Thank you," She pulled out of my hug and walked around me to get a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.

I turned to see seven pairs eyes staring at me, some impressed, some careless, but all staring at me, nonetheless. Nathaniel's eyes, however, were the most piercing – he seemed angry almost. And I knew that I was certain to get an earful of him later.

Nathaniel pulled into my driveway, putting his Ford into park.

It had to be almost 11:00 PM by now, and an eerie darkness blanketed all of Forks that night. After Robyn had chugged at least three bottles of water, she went back into her bedroom and didn't come out for the rest of the evening. Adam didn't return until moonlight had found every corner where daylight could've possibly touched, and, without even a passing glance at the rest of us, he hurried into the bedroom, an apologetic touch to his eyes.

We all remained to watch highlights of previous college football games from earlier in the week, playing with Hawk until the special ended. And after quick goodbyes, Nathaniel drove me home. We decided not to speak during the car ride; as a substitute for conversation, we listened to a softer CD Nathaniel kept in his car for whenever his friends weren't around.

And now that we sat in his Ford, the headlights beaming at my garage door, we waited as the last acoustic song sifted to a close.

"That was a pretty CD," I commented.

"Robyn burned it off her computer for me," He chuckled silently. "She calls it the 'Nathaniel Needs to Calm Down' mix."

I grinned, "And does it work?"

"That was the first time I listened to it all the way through," He admitted.

We were quiet for a couple moments, but the silence was not awkward. It was actually welcomed – it felt good to not have to fill the moment with pointless talking. I glanced over at Nathaniel only to find him staring forward mechanically, his russet face illuminated by the bright green glow of the dashboard.

"That was really nice of you to comfort Robyn like that," he smiled over at me. "Usually, when Adam and she fight, none of us dare intervene."

"Well, wasn't it the right thing to do?" I looked forward too. "Watching her stand there in shame and grief was unbearable to watch."

He said nothing in response.

"May I ask what happened between them?" I wondered, but when he glanced over at me skeptically, I added, "Unless it's not my place to know."

"It's not my place to tell," He replied.

"Oh," I sighed. "Then I won't pressure you."

"Don't worry," He exhaled, pulling the keys out of the ignition. "By tomorrow, they'll be the happy little couple you know them to be."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I've known the both of them my entire life – I know what they're like," He chuckled quietly. "Hell, I've known everybody here since their baby days. I know these people inside out."

"I guess you're right," I looked down at my fingers.

"But you," He smiled over at me. "That's a different story. I bet I could spend my whole life trying to figure you out and then still fail the test at the end."

My eyes lingered over to him.

"You're so unpredictable," Nathaniel decided.

"Example?" I unbuckled, and then turned to face him.

"Is all of the above a possible answer?" He replied. "Everything you do is unpredictable. You're good at keeping me on my toes, to say the least."

"I'm not sure if I should say thank you or …?" I grinned.

"No need," He smiled, opening his door and walking around the hood to open my door. I didn't give him the chance, though; I was out before he was even on my side of the car.

We headed up the front walk, rather sluggishly – the rain pounded down us, soaking us entirely. Nathaniel's black locks straightened out and covered his eyes. Mine began to stick to my cheeks and my neck, each strand becoming annoyingly stringy.

As we approached the steps, Nathaniel stopped, stomping in a puddle. He laughed, glancing over at me fervently.

The face I was making must've been the reason behind his lively laugh. He kicked up some water, splashing it at my shins – I recoiled away lamely. His smile was contagious and no matter how hard anyone could try, that grin could never be matched. No one could ever smile like Nathaniel.

"You have a nice smile," I said without thinking as we went up the steps.

"Thanks," He chuckled under his breath. "Not many get to see it."

"That can't be true," I shook my head, grabbing my keys from my jacket pocket. "You're pretty carefree. I can't count how many times I've seen you smile or heard you laugh."

"It's hard _not_ to smile around you," He admitted.

I reached for the door handle, unlocking it with my key in one swift movement. Stepping in, I turned to look at him.

"I have a question," I told him.

"Ask away," He grinned, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"What was that look you gave me back at Robyn's?" I wondered. "When I was comforting her, you looked like you were mad at me."

"Not mad," He answered, staring down at his feet. "I just thought you were being a bit … hypocritical."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Recently, you have been a big mess of pain," He sighed. "But you were telling her all about positivity. And love."

"Well, isn't that what she wanted to hear?" My eyebrows furrowed.

"But it wasn't the truth," He shook his head. "You didn't believe in it."

"But she wanted to hear it," I stared forward at him vacantly.

He shrugged, "I guess."

Turning, his eyes retreated to the woods. I could tell he wasn't mad at me, and I was certainly grateful for that – his smile reassured me that all was well – but there something else that was still hanging in the air. An unsolved problem, almost. After a couple minutes, his eyes returned to me. He rolled on his heels.

"Do you want to come in?" I offered.

"Naw," He shook his head. "I should really be getting back."

"It's not like you have somewhere to be, though, right?" I raised an eyebrow. When he shook his head, I shrugged, "Then why not come in?"

"Uh, I'm tired," He exhaled. "But I'll see you tomorrow at ten o'clock sharp."

I nodded, sighing, tightening my grip around the door handle.

Then he added with a smirk, "Nine-thirty, if you'd like that better."

"I doubt I'll be awake that early," I smiled. "But I'll be up and waiting by ten. You better not be late."

"Oh, never, your majesty," He joked, bowing low, his hair dripping onto my front welcome mat. "Late is not in my vocabulary."

"It better not be," I giggled, as he stood back to standing position.

"See you tomorrow, Scarlett," He laughed, turning to walk away.

"Um, Nathaniel?" I called to him, stepping back out onto my small porch.

Nathaniel whirled around, almost running right into me. I grabbed him by the forearm and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. It wasn't something I'd planned, but I'd meant it nonetheless.

"Wow," He breathed heavily. "What was that for?"

"For being my friend," I grinned. "Thank you."

"Uh …" He took a deep breath, looking at me with wide, suspicious eyes. I stepped back into my house, resting my hand back on the door handle, waiting for him to speak. "You're welcome, I guess …."

"You seem confused," I noticed.

"Like I said," He grinned, skipping every other stair. "You are _so_ unpredictable."


	12. Chapter 11

As anticipated, the nightmare taunted me.

However, for the first time, it did not end like it normally did – it continued just like Coop said it would've, as if I'd unlocked some hidden piece. I didn't know what I did or how I did it, but somehow the rest revealed itself to me.

The wolf jumped forward at me, bloodthirsty eyes focused on mine and ears pointed towards my beating pulse. Instinctively, I cringed away, putting my hands up in front of my face – as if that would do me any good. Clamping my eyelids shut, I thought a final fleeting thought.

_I love you, Mason,_ my mind whispered, knowing death was close.

I awaited the moment where its razor-sharp nails would dig into my skin, its teeth gnawing and ripping at my flailing limbs … but the moment never came.

Nevertheless, I didn't dare open my eyes; I couldn't bring myself to witness my own death. I just couldn't.

Abruptly, a moaning cry burst into the air and a large _thud_ shook the earth so powerfully, I almost lost my balance. Curious yet hesitant, I still refused to open my eyes. They remained tightly shut.

"Ugh," Something or someone groaned, followed by a low snarl.

I counted the seconds that passed, but I lost track more than once.

"Scarlett," A male's voice sputtered. "H-help me."

My eyes flew open at the sound of my name, at the sound of another living, breathing human being's voice.

And there writhing before me was Nathaniel, face pressed into the ground.

I gasped, jumping forward and placing my hands on his back. His shirt was malevolently torn, falling off at the seams. His whole body was bleeding terribly, his elbow twisted back in an abnormal direction and his jeans abhorrently stained crimson.

"Nathaniel!" I shrieked, trying to turn him over but unable to find a place where the skin hadn't been ripped away.

Finally, I reached across his waist, having no choice but to apply pressure to his wounded ribs, and flipped him so that he was facing upward.

Nathaniel's face was brutally damaged, a gash beginning at his forehead and then traveling all the way down to his jaw where a claw had been dragged down his cheek. His left eye was throbbing vindictively, blood oozing and then dripping down his face onto my idle hand. I rested my ear on his exposed chest, blood dousing the side of my face.

There was a heartbeat, but it was faint.

"No!" I screamed, my lungs burning.

In response, I heard a guttural growl not very far from where I knelt. And looking up, I saw the wolf only ten feet away from me. Now, there was no inch of glass to protect me and Mason was not there to save me from an immoral fate. Now, death was unavoidable and there was nothing I could do.

But I still had hope – I would not be fragile, I would not let it get me so easily. So, to cover up my fear, I became enraged, aggressive.

"You monster!" I stood, facing it without a single hint of fear – my poker face was better than I'd thought.

It stepped back, a bit astonished by my sudden confidence. But then it stepped forward again, as if to say, "_Well, what are you going to do about it?_"

"How dare you hurt him!" I yelled, stepping forward in the same stance as the wolf, challenging it. "He did nothing to you! … Come to think of it, neither did I! Why is your only goal hurting the people I love? I …"

Interrupting me, the wolf stepped forward a couple steps, the ground shaking under its paws as if it had just sent shockwaves through the earth. And it howled, the menacing sound echoing off the walls of the woods and deep into the indecipherable abyss beyond. The howl then diminished into a threatening growl, the wolf showing its jagged teeth.

I was scared, yes, but I refused to show it. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

The beast stepped back and stared at me with startled ocher eyes, rather impressed by my poise, I could tell.

"I was intimidated before," I shook my head, stepping over Nathaniel's lifeless body carefully, actually approaching the monster. "But I'm not afraid of you anymore, not after what you did. Now I'm just angry. I might as well kill you myself."

It also stepped closer, puffing out its chest, as if to say, "_Then why don't you?_"

Now that I was right in front of the wolf and it was right in front of me, I realized how minor I was compared to the beast. In height, the arch of its neck would probably just brush the top of my head. In size, I was wimpy and it was sturdy, broad. I knew the wolf looked nothing like this in reality – it was just my avid imagination.

But it was still threatening all the same.

"Why don't you just go away?" I put my hands on my hips, glaring up into its eyes, but becoming abstracted by its bared serrated teeth.

The wolf seemed to lose all patience with me at that point.

It snapped its teeth at me, its jagged daggers mere centimeters from the tip of my nose. I fell back, startled, collapsing onto Nathaniel's limp body. It barked at me with aggravated eyes, its murderous growls bursting up to top volume.

I couldn't keep my cool anymore. My hands were frantic, searching for another hand to grasp, searching for a lifeline. I whimpered, knowing that my unnecessary confidence had just made things worse.

In other words, I'd just ensured myself a spot six feet under.

The beast moved forward. I closed my eyes tighter – now not even Nathaniel's chivalry could save me.

My hand probed Nathaniel's lifeless cadaver, and once I'd found what I'd been looking for, his hand, I gripped it tight, afraid. I could hear the wolf continue to yowl at me, growing louder as it approached me; I felt the ground shake beneath me as the wolf stomped closer; I felt my fear mounting. And then …

Silence …?

There was nothing – not the pounding of its paws, not the yapping of its teeth, not the roar of its growl, not the dull pain of looming demise – nothing.

"Scarlett?" A voice called to me, and I recognized it instantly. However, I refused to get overexcited – every night for the past week and a half, I'd heard his voice tempt me, I'd heard his voice lure me in, but I'd never been able to lay my eyes on his breathtaking face.

How was I to know if he was actually there or not?

"Scarlett? Why are your eyes closed?" He asked me. "You look scared."

My eyes flickered open, searching my surroundings. And, as usual, Mason was nowhere to be seen. Instantaneously, I was thwarted. I fell forward onto my knees, glancing back at Nathaniel's unresponsive body. He remained inert, his russet skin unnaturally sallower with death.

"Are you mad at me?" His voice returned several moments later. "Is that why you aren't talking to me?"

"I'm not mad at you," I shook my head, my eyes focusing on the swaying grass. "Why would I be? And why should I talk to you if you're not even here?"

"I _am_ here," He countered.

My eyes snapped up. "Where?"

"Behind you," He told me, his voice smooth with a trace of amusement.

Almost a little too quickly, I whirled around to look behind me. And there he was, in all his beauty and magnificence. Mason's eyes were soft, staring at me solicitously, and his mouth was curved into that recognizable calm smirk that I'd missed so much. His clothes were dark, contrasting against the sunny backdrop.

Unable to control myself, I jumped up, running to him as fast as my legs would allow – but yet, I just wasn't fast enough. Once I reached him, we collided together like two boulders smashing into one another. My white dress swooped around his legs as result of my sudden stop, and once he stepped into me, we became one with each other and there was nothing more to it.

I felt safe.

His lips were unrelenting, as were mine; we'd been deprived from each other for what was only a short period of time, but what seemed to be years, centuries. I wanted to hear his voice again, but I couldn't bring myself to break away from him in fear that he would vanish.

As if he'd read my mind, he pulled away but his hands remained cradling my face lightly. Even though I knew this was dream, he looked so real – every curve, every pore. It was all exactly as I remembered.

"Someone's a bit eager," He chuckled, that heartwarming smirk sending my blood to a boil.

"I've missed you," I could feel the tears threatening, but I didn't try to push them back; these emotions I was feeling were too strong to push away.

"Oh, but, love," His voice was sweet, pure sugar coming out of his mouth in a whisper. "I never left you."

I raised an eyebrow, confused.

"I've been with you all this time," He grinned, still slightly amused.

His index finger began to stroke my cheek, tracing up and down from my temple to the corner of my lips. My pulse fluttered at his touch, my latent heart explosively bubbling back to life.

"I thought you would've been able to breathe without me," He smirked.

"That's quite impossible," I denied.

"But you've survived this far," Mason's finger ran across my lips and then down to my chin. Then he lifted my chin so my face was looking straight up at his. After a few silent moments of looking into my eyes, he mused, "I'd forgotten."

"Forgotten what?" I got lost in his beautiful blue eyes.

"How the sight of your face made me feel," he answered.

"And how do you feel?" I wondered, sighing.

"Lightheaded," He laughed silently, his blonde hair flapping against his forehead in the wind. "It's not a feeling I experience very often."

"Hmm, I know the feeling oh too well," I exhaled, smiling.

"You're very buoyant, you know that?" He grinned at first but his smile faded a bit on the right side of his mouth.

"I wouldn't say that," I shook my head. "I'm too moody."

"Well, a moment ago you looked depressed and now you're not," He shrugged. "Why were you so upset anyway?"

"Nathaniel," I recalled, turning …

But he was gone.

"Where'd he go?" I frowned stepping away from Mason and looking about the meadow frantically. "Oh, no … what if the wolf took him?"

"I doubt that," His voice was rather spiteful. "Wouldn't we have heard it?"

I turned to look at Mason, noticing his face was much darker to say the least. He seemed almost angry, but he hid it well.

"I bet he's fine," He sighed, putting his hands in his pockets and watching me hesitantly. "He probably got up and walked away."

"He couldn't have done that," I denied. "He was cataleptic, virtually dead." "Well, it's not like it matters," Mason shrugged, glancing into the woods, then up to the sky and then back at me.

"Of course it matters!" I fumed, but I unable to be entirely mad at him.

"Since when do you care so much for him, Scarlett?" Mason asked.

"He's my friend!" I put my hands on my hips. "Nathaniel's great."

"Well, I guess that tells me what you've been doing in my absence," Mason shook his head disapprovingly. "I hope you kept your hands to yourself …?"

"I love you, not him," I exhaled. "But that doesn't mean I don't care for him. It felt nice to have a friend around again. I don't know why it's so difficult for you to understand he's a part of my life now."

"Let's not argue," he shook his head. "Otherwise I might have to leave."

"No! Don't leave," I gasped, walking back to him.

When I tried to take his hand he backed away, "And I understand you want to be friends with him … but I don't understand why you can't make up your mind."

"My mind is made up," I crossed my arms across my chest.

"Are you sure?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I-I …" I stumbled over my words.

"I thought so," Mason exhaled. "But, if you're going to mess up at all, I guess here is the place to do it."

"What do you mean?" I wondered as a burst of wind swept through the meadow and sent my hair twirling.

"Don't you remember?" Mason grinned widely, the wind tugging at the hem of his shirt. He came closer to me until his lips were barely grazing mine – then his lips traveled up to my ear. He whispered softly, "This is all a dream and it's time for you to wake up."

The wind blew more violently. "What if I don't want to wake up?"

"Well, I just thought waking up would be easier for you," He shrugged. "But it's alright if you want to stay here alone …"

My heartbeat pounded in my chest. "Don't leave me!"

He laughed flatly and then pulled me in for one final kiss – he was hungry, pulling me into him assertively. Then, after a few moments that seemed strangely short, he pulled away and murmured, "Goodbye."

And with that the image of his face slowly disintegrated and floated out of my grasp. Turning, I watched the entire setting – the trees, the field, the clouds, even the sun – all swirl in a small torrent of dust and disappear into the darkness.

"Mason, don't!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, shooting up to a sitting position. I kicked my sheets off of me, tears falling down my face like a waterfall.

My eyes frantically jumped around my dark bedroom, everything exactly how I left it when I fell asleep. When I feel asleep … _only a dream, only a dream_ …. I tried and I tried, but it was no use; I couldn't convince myself what was up and what was down at the moment – let alone, what was real and what wasn't. I developed a headache listening to the rain beat against my window like fists riotously.

I felt like were in a cage.

I picked up my legs and wrapped my arms around my knees as my shrieks began to weaken into a pitiable series of snivels. Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I exhaled.

I'd had enough – I couldn't keep going on like this. And if the nightmare continued like I knew it would, it would slowly drive me to insanity, I knew it. But how do you solve a completely mental problem such as this? I could go to a shrink, but I wouldn't want to worry Mason like that. I could just not sleep anymore, but that might impel me to lunacy even faster.

So, obviously this was something I couldn't unravel.

Perhaps, someday I would get lucky and the dream would leave me alone, but one can only ask for so many miracles in a lifetime; I'd already been given more than I deserved.

I stood, the tears still flowing but softly enough to be ignored.

My heart pumped inside my chest as I made my way toward the foyer and then down the stairwell. The entire first floor was eerily dark, only a bit of light pouring through the front door from my neighbor's porch light. I entered the kitchen, sitting at the table.

I began to practice basic breathing, and it helped to calm me down a little. The tears were gone within a matter of moments, clearing up my head.

Mason's last word to me – "goodbye" – still hung in the air, echoing in my brain like a maddening echo, impossible to expel from my head no matter how hard I tried. Part of me wished that I had never seen the second half of my nightmare. Maybe there was a reason I'd only seen half of it. Oh, why could I not recognize a blessing when it was offered to me?

As the minutes passed and my thoughts became relatively clear again, I realized something. Perhaps, Coop had been right. He'd said the only way I could see the other half of the dream was if I unlocked it by figuring something out. Maybe the second half was ominously waiting in the corner of my brain, waiting for me to finally admit to myself – to _him _– that I loved him. It wanted me to love him before it killed him. If I'd seen it before I knew him, before I cared for him, it wouldn't have mattered as much to me. It wouldn't hurt me as deeply.

A week ago, my only concern was Mason, and now, I loved both Mason _and_ Nathaniel too much to see them go.

Shaking my head, I glimpsed over at the clock on my microwave: 2:23.

"A new record, I think," I said aloud to myself, but then I shook my head. "No, it must've shaken me awake earlier than this …." I tried to think back, but was too disoriented to do so.

I knew eventually this lack of sleep would catch up to me.

My house became unusually silent in an instant. I glanced out the window to see the rain had stopped – well, at least became a light mist. Pushing the chair back, I stood and grabbed my coat, emerging out the front door.

The fresh air numbed my brain, soothing me to a reasonable extent. Now with the barriers that blocked my judgment stripped away and the clean mist on my face, my tense muscles relaxed. I sat on the top step of my porch and watched as the clouds began to float steadily west.

Moonlight was able to find a hole in the clouds' barricade and peek through curiously. As time passed, I watched the moon drift down and disappear behind the skyline and the sun slowly drift up to take its place. Time felt like it was going by quickly, but I didn't realize just how quickly until the honk of a horn burst through my haze.

It was Nathaniel, pulling into my driveway right on time. He hopped out of his car eagerly after he parked, coming up to meet me. But he slowed as he approached the steps, a warm smile on his face.

"Hey," He grinned widely, putting his hands in his pockets. "What are you doing waiting out here?"

My mind retreated to his dead body lying there in the pool of blood. For a moment, that's all I could see – all of my senses blacked out.

"Is everything okay?" Nathaniel called for my attention.

I blinked, taking deep breaths to push the image away. "Everything's fine. Is it ten o'clock already? Wow, I guess I lost track of the time."

"Lost track of thirty minutes?" Nathaniel smiled, his grin wiping away my fears of last night.

"What?" I wondered, confused.

"I thought you said you wouldn't be awake before 9:30," He chuckled.

"Well," I shrugged, intertwining my hands together. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, but I did not move from my spot at the top to greet him. "Turns out I was awake a lot earlier than that."

His smile faded, noting my disheartened mood. "Rough night?"

I exhaled, watching him carefully. "Rough nightmare."

Nathaniel nodded, slowly going up the stairs and sitting beside me. "Well, I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle."

"No," I frowned. "I was scared."

He didn't expect that answer, I could tell. He seemed hesitant, uncertain of how to answer. "That bad, huh?"

I stared forward into the woods across the street automatically, avoiding his gaze. "It was one of those nightmares," My words were practically inaudible. "Where you wake up all sweaty, and all the sheets are on the floor, you're kicking and screaming, and you're crying uncontrollably."

We were silent for a couple of minutes, assumingly because I'd said one of those statements that are just impossible to respond to without changing the subject. Nathaniel's eyes followed mine, and when he noticed I was looking at nothing in particular, his eyes returned to me.

"It'll be okay," He reached over and rubbed my back softly. The touch burned – I wanted to brush his hand away, but I knew he was only trying to help.

I said nothing in return, and he nodded, grasping how irritable I was today.

"Well, if it's any consolation," he said, his smile habitual. "I had what could possibly be the best night's sleep I've ever had."

"Really?" I tried to sound interested, but not much could distract me and actually hold my attention right now. "Why is that?"

"Well, it could be that the pizza guy was thirty minutes late and I got my pizza for free," He explained. "Or it could be that I caught my favorite movie on TV with no commercials."

I smiled halfheartedly.

"But I'm pretty sure it had to do with the fact that you kissed me," He sighed, his eyes leaving me and retreating to the woods.

My eyes floated to him, trying to decode his impassive expression – but it couldn't be done. I watched as his chest heaved with every breath he took and how his jet-black hair fluttered in the wind. His eyes stared into the distance, at something far away that I could not see. Nathaniel was sort of beautiful, and the incredulous thing was that it took me this long to notice.

His eyebrows furrowed as he thought – or was he just waiting for a reply?

"Hmm," I exhaled. "I think that's funny."

Nathaniel's eyes left the forest and met mine, a small smirk detectable on his contemplative face. "What's funny?"

"That last night was the worst of my life and the best of yours," I noted. "I mean, after we both shared the same experience."

"Experience?" He chuckled at my choice of words.

"When I kissed you …" I tried to explain.

"I know what you're referring to," He smiled widely. "I just didn't think it could be classified as an _experience_."

I pushed my hair out of my face, a bit embarrassed.

"Well, how about we get out of here?" He stood, extending his hand out for mine. "We should get up to Port Angeles before the shopping rush."

"Port Angeles?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that place north of here," Nathaniel chuckled, helping me down the front steps and to his car.

I huffed. "I know what Port Angeles is. I'm asking why we're going there."

"Well, Christmas is right around the bend," He sighed, opening my door for me once we reached his Ford. "So Robyn wants to get all her shopping done. And, of course, the last thing Adam wants to do is shop all day so he invited us to join them."

"Just us two?" I wondered, climbing into the passenger seat.

"No, the whole gang should be coming," He answered once he was in the car and buckled in. "Well, except for Tommy, I think. He's with some friends."

"Oh," I looked over at him. "Well, thanks for letting me tag along."

"Of course," he shrugged. "Besides, I think Robyn will like having a girl's opinion – she usually gets real mad when we 'don't take shopping seriously'." He laughed at that last line.

"Well, I'd be glad to help," I smiled as he backed out of the driveway.

**Port Angeles is approximately an hour from Forks.**

Compared to other places, Port Angeles is extremely small what with its population of some 19,000 people. However, compared to Forks it's the "big city" – nearly six times larger in size – and where all the good people of my humble town go for a movie, fine dining, or a simple shopping trip.

Nathaniel and I took Route 101 out of Forks, past La Push, and onward to Port Angeles. We met up with the rest of the group at a little department store, yet it was probably the largest within a fifty mile radius of the area. Already, Adam's arms were piled high with his wife's various purchases and Justin had been forced to offer a helping hand.

Quite to my surprise, Adam and Robyn were all better again, kissing and joking with each other like normal, their little quarrel from yesterday now ancient history. It was hard to remember what the whole fight was over – if I recalled correctly, the tension really began to grow when Robyn mentioned the name Seth.

What was it about that name that sent everyone on edge?

Despite my interest, I didn't mention it, in fear that the whole ordeal would resurrect.

"Scarlett!" Robyn smiled, noticing me as soon as Nathaniel and I walked in the front door. "Come here, I need your help with something."

I hesitantly left Nathaniel's side, walking up to Robyn who had a pink dress pressed up to her chest.

"What do you think? Pink or blue?" She asked me.

"I think the blue looks better on you," I commented, greeting the rest of the guys with a friendly smile.

"I don't know, I like the pink," Zach interceded.

Shane and Justin glanced over at Zach questioningly.

"What?" Zach shrugged. "I'm just giving my honest outlook."

"Where's Dylan?" I asked, walking over to the guys as Robyn gaited back into the fitting room.

"He's outside with Hawk," Shane answered.

"We didn't want to leave the dog home alone," Adam explained. "Last thing I need is for that dog to rip up everything."

"Do you need help with these?" I gestured towards the boxes in Adam's hands. Before he could respond, I took three of them off his hands.

"Why thank you," He looked over at the other guys. "Looks like you're the only one here with a helpful bone in their body."

"You didn't ask us for help," Shane complained.

"You didn't offer," Adam countered.

"Hey, when can we get out of here and do something we all want to do?" Zach whined, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Well, with any luck Robyn's almost done," Justin juggled the boxes over to his left hand to peek at his watch. "It's almost noon."

"I _pray_ she's almost done," Adam shook his head. "Or else I am gonna go bankrupt soon. Did you see the price tag on that dress?"

"Relax," Nathaniel clapped his hand on Adam's shoulder, a smirk on his face. "Remember that you love her …." He couldn't help but laugh at the end.

"Oh my gosh!" Robyn burst out of the fitting rooms, holding a beautiful silver dress in her right hand. "You won't believe my luck! I found this amazing dress hanging out on the rejects' rack."

"How much is it?" Adam gulped.

Robyn picked up the price tag. "Only eighty dollars."

"You're screwed, man," Nathaniel laughed, taking his hand off Adam's shoulder and walking over to my side.

After purchasing all the items Robyn wanted – adding up to a good $290; Adam almost cried – we left the department store and went looking for Dylan. After twenty minutes of searching, we found him and Hawk playing out on the pier.

"Dylan!" Zach waved to him as we approached.

We all watched as Dylan hurled a rock into the air and Hawk shot to the other end of the pier in the blink of an eye to retrieve it. At first we couldn't tell if he'd caught the rock or not – he was too far away. But he ran back and obediently dropped the stone at Dylan's feet seconds later.

"Whoa, he's fast," I exhaled, walking up to them and kneeling down at the Husky's side. Immediately, he licked my face enthusiastically.

"He's real strong to," Dylan grinned as the rest of the group came up to him. "I bet I could throw a brick and he'd catch it."

"How _much_ are you willing to bet?" Shane laughed, but then his face grew serious. "I'm saying fifteen bucks."

"I say twenty," Dylan began to shuffle through his pockets for cash.

"You are not throwing a brick at my dog!" Robyn chastised, bending down beside me and stroking behind Hawk's ears.

"Hey, I'm going to go put these in the car," Adam sighed, gesturing towards the tower of boxes in his and Justin's hand. "Scarlett, hand me those. I'll take 'em off your hands."

"You sure you don't need help?" I asked, handing them up to him.

He laughed. "Sorry, I'm just not used to so much courtesy."

"Oh, give us a break," Shane slouched as Justin and Adam walked away.

"So," Dylan glanced down at Robyn first, his eyes then receding to the horizon. "You think you're done shopping yet?"

"If she's not, I call dog duty next," Shane put up his hands defensively. "I'm not sitting through another two hours of 'isn't this dress so cute' and 'which color matches my eyes?'"

"Is it really that bad? You guys are acting like you're being tortured," Robyn giggled. Once all the guys nodded, Robyn continued, "Then I guess you'll all just have to deal with it, because I could go on all day long."

"Wow, that's real nice of you, Rob," Zach sighed sarcastically.

"Well, I guess we could see a movie …" Robyn began to suggest.

Dylan interrupted, "That's a great idea. I say we see that ninja movie."

"That looks so stupid," Zach shook his head. "They only blow stuff up because they have the money to – movies like that make no sense."

"Is there a problem with that?" Dylan bubbled excitedly. "Stuff explodes, man! That's not awesome?"

"What do you wanna see, Scarlett?" Nathaniel glimpsed over at me.

"Aw, don't ask her!" Dylan complained. "She'll make us go see one of those stupid mushy romance things."

"Ooh, I'm in on that," Robyn stood, as did I. She gripped my arm, "What do you say, Scarlett? I say we see _The Last Kiss_."

"No way! The dude is shirtless for, like, more than half the movie," Shane refused. "Are you intent on stripping me of the little masculinity I have left?"

"Dude, you didn't have much masculinity to start with," Nathaniel laughed.

"I say we see that new apocalypse movie," I suggested. "What is it? _2024_?"

"Did she just say she wants to see _2024_?" Zach's eyes widened. "Nathaniel, man, she is definitely a keeper."

"We're not …" Nathaniel tried to protest.

"No use trying to deny it," Dylan chuckled, latching a leash onto Hawk's collar. "You know we're gonna keep teasing you no matter what."

So, once Justin and Adam eventually returned, we decided to go see _2024_, a movie that I honestly wasn't very eager to see. And when we did finally get to the theater, I hardly paid attention to any of it.

For three and a half hours, I stared at the big screen, none of the images actually being processed in my brain, none of the lines actually catching my attention, and none of the sounds actually reaching my eardrums. All the while, I heard Mason's voice and Mason's voice alone. Again and again, the nightmare was painfully replayed in front of my eyes.

_Goodbye._

_ Goodbye. _

_ Goodbye._

Only, it seemed more frightening this time – probably because I'd discovered that it was officially impossible to hide from the dream; it even found me when I was wide awake.

I would never be able to run from it – was there no end to this madness?

My eyes remained glassy and staring at something far away until the lights came back on and Nathaniel stood from his seat beside me. The gang laughed and joked around with one another as we walked out the theater door and into the main lobby.

I lingered behind.

Once I finally exited the theater, I saw the rest of the group crowding the snack bar – with the exception of Adam and Robyn, who were sitting at the bottom of the stairwell silently whispering to each other.

Nathaniel jogged over to me, smiling widely, "Wasn't that the worst movie you've ever seen? I mean the part when that guy fell through into the lava was pretty cool, but the rest of it was just ridiculous, you know?"

"Um," I tried to recall at least some part of the movie to prove that I'd been paying attention, but I didn't remember any of it. "Yeah, that was a pretty cool part."

"Why can't filmmakers realize that the apocalypse is a dead topic?" He chuckled, leaning against the wall beside me and watching as Shane began to flirt with the vendor behind the snack counter.

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

"First 666, then 2012, now 2024?" He chuckled. "How many dates can they come up with until they understand the world's not going to end?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I pulled my jacket tighter around me.

"Hey, you okay?" Nathaniel pushed off the wall and reached over for me.

"Not really," I shook my head. "I'm sorry, but I wasn't paying attention to the movie at all. I just couldn't get that nightmare out of my head."

"That's still bothering you?" He frowned, taking my hand.

"It's been bothering me since I woke up," I replied. "But I didn't want to ruin your day or anyone else's, so I …"

He interrupted. "If there's something bothering you, you can always tell me. Don't worry about ruining my day."

Nathaniel looked deep into my eyes, his thumb rubbing my palm amiably. The touch soothed me, pushing the image of his dead body out of my line of vision. He smiled kindly, trying to lift my spirits.

"I'm sorry," I repeated. "I just … I'm scared."

"Guys! C'mon!" Dylan's voice called over to us. We glimpsed over at the others, just now seeing that they were at the front door, ready to leave.

I was about to pull away from Nathaniel's grasp and join the rest of the group, but he pulled me back. His grip was too strong for me to break away.

"Can you tell me something?" He wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure," I shrugged, my hand slipping out of his.

"If you don't mind me asking," He leaned against the wall again. "What is it about this nightmare that is so terrifying to you?"

I began to back away from him towards the others, mainly because I didn't want to give him the chance to respond once I answered him.

"You died," I answered, my voice quiet.

He backed away from the wall, losing his cool with each passing second; his eyes were wide, full of questions. I didn't give him the chance to query me at all, though. Instantly after the words left my mouth, I turned and walked away.

Nathaniel was silent for the rest of the day, barely interacting in any conversation. I didn't think telling him the topic of my dream would stun him so thoroughly – apparently, it was a paralyzing concept for the both of us.

After leaving the theater, the whole group had decided on going out for dinner. We went to the_ Bella Italia_, a restaurant that had started up in honor of _Twilight_, the sign in the window boasting 'Home of Bella and Edward's First Date'.

By the time we'd left the restaurant, it was nearly eight o'clock.

"And, I mean, you'd think they'd get better stuntmen for parts like that," Dylan said of _2024_, holding Hawk's leash looser – Hawk didn't drag Dylan or linger behind the group; he was very well behaved.

"Yeah, but the CGI was pretty cool," Justin sighed.

Justin, Dylan and Shane walked in a horizontal line at the head of the group, Hawk strutting in front of them. Behind them, Zach, Nathaniel and I walked together, me sandwiched between the two of them. A couple feet behind the rest of the bunch, Adam and Robyn were latched onto one another.

Zach went on and on, talking to Nathaniel over my head, but Nathaniel hardly ever responded, so Zach turned his attention to me after awhile.

"So, I applied for a job the other day," Zach told me.

"That's great," I nodded, glancing at Nathaniel every now and then.

"Yeah, it's actually here in Port Angeles," He explained. "Up by the pier, at the shipyard. It's real simple actually …" Zach continued to ramble, his eyes lingering forward toward the other guys.

"Uh-huh," I nodded, pretending to be paying attention. But, really, all my attention was on Nathaniel.

"What's with you, Nate?" Zach looked over at his friend.

"Uh, nothing," Nathaniel shook his head. "Hey, I think Shane just called you."

"Oh," Zach sped up to catch up with the other guys.

"No, he didn't," My eyes shot to Nathaniel's, but I was unable to meet his gaze – he was busy staring at the sidewalk.

"Gullible," He shrugged.

"I guess this means you want to talk to me?" I assumed.

"No," Nathaniel tried to laugh, but it went flat – a failed attempt. "I just wanted him to shut up."

"Then I'll do the talking," I exhaled. "I'm sorry if you're upset or offended, but I can't really control what my brain comes up with …"

He interrupted, "I'm not upset or offended. I'm just kind of … surprised."

"Why?" I wondered.

He stared as if the answer was obvious. "That's what you dream about? Me … _dying_?"

"I-I …" I tried to explain, but Zach's whining voice interrupted me.

"Nate, Shane didn't call me," Zach turned to face us, but Justin punched him in the arm, pulling him back to face forward.

"Can't you take a hint, idiot?" Shane reproved. "They're having a moment."

"Thanks, guys," Nathaniel mumbled, looking at them pessimistically.

"I don't dream about your death," I lowered my voice so only Nathaniel could hear. "Do you not recall me saying it was a nightmare?"

"Yes, but I'm just … surprised," He repeated. "You're … I mean, you're _you_. You're the most innocent thing I've ever seen, but you dream about _death_?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Never judge a book by its cover."

"I know that," Nathaniel sighed. "But I didn't know there was so much pain going on under the surface – you hide it so well."

We were silent for a moment.

"Why didn't you come to me?" He asked. "I can help you, I can."

I said nothing.

"Mason was stupid to leave you unprotected," Nathaniel stated. _His_ name sent shivers up my spine, my heart pumping vigorously. "I know he knew how fragile you were, and he just let you drown."

"That's not true," I shook my head, refusing to let him insult Mason.

"You have a better analogy?" Nathaniel stopped walking.

"Actually, I do," I stopped as well. "He knew I was fragile, and with him around I was just sinking too deep."

Adam and Robyn went around us, staring at us questioningly at first, but letting us have our privacy.

"What if something should happen to you, though?" Nathaniel sighed. "I don't see him anywhere. I don't see him trying to defend you."

"Nothing will happen to me," I denied.

"Are you kidding?" Nathaniel shoved his hands into his coat pockets. "I have to keep my eyes open at all times. I'm always afraid that you'll shatter."

"I'm not _that_ fragile," I countered, my eyebrows furrowing.

He sighed, shaking his finger at me. "I know that look. You're trying to start an argument, and I don't feel like dumping fuel into the fire."

"I don't want to start an argument," I resisted. "Believe me, the last thing I want to do is argue."

"Listen, Scarlett," Nathaniel shook his head, ignoring what I'd just said. "I love being with you, but if every conversation we have is going to turn into a fight, I don't …"

"Don't even say the words," I muttered.

"What?" Nathaniel eyes me with inquisitive eyes.

"You can't leave me," I said strongly. "I can't be alone, you can't leave me."

A cold wind whipped by us from the water, blowing our hair around on top of our heads. We were quiet, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, the dark sky above us. Nathaniel's eyes remained locked on me, but mine wandered to evade his stare; I noticed that the rest of the Quileutes were already at the van, waiting for us.

"Wow," He exhaled loudly, as if he'd been holding his breath. "This conversation just got really intense."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I know, I know," He shrugged. "I just ruined the moment."

"Well, you could've said something a bit deeper than that," I advised.

"Sorry, it's just who I am – I can't stand heavy discussions," He admitted lightly, but then his face fell. "I promise to say something more insightful next time."

He walked around me towards the others, headed for his car.

"See, you keep doing that," I went after him, practically running to keep up with his speedy pace. "You always lighten up the conversation and then weigh it right back down again."

"I don't know what you're talking about," He shook his head.

"Well, first you lightened it by joking around, saying the conversation got intense," I explained hurriedly to him. "And then you said you'd say something more insightful next time, and your tone was really sharp and …"

He interrupted, stopping abruptly, "You're rambling."

"Sorry," I inhaled, stopping with him.

"Are you guys gonna be stop and go all night?" Shane shouted over to us. "I don't know about you but I'd like to go home."

Nathaniel obliged, grabbing my wrist and pulling me to his Ford. "We can talk in the car."

"Bye, Scarlett," Robyn waved as we approached Nathaniel's car, which was sitting right beside the van. "Will we be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Why do you ask? Getting sick of me yet?" I joked, as Nathaniel quickly opened my door and then went around the hood to the driver's side.

"No way," Dylan laughed, climbing into the back of the van.

"You make things more exciting," Zach mused.

"And you give us more to tease Nate about," Shane added quickly.

I glanced at Nathaniel, to see if he'd shoot back a rebuttal, but he remained indifferent and simply climbed into the Ford without a single goodbye to anyone. I could tell he wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," I smiled, climbing into Nathaniel's car.

He pulled out as soon as my door clicked shut, zooming out of the lot and back onto Port Angeles's main road. Then, turning onto Route 101, he headed in the direction of Forks.

Nathaniel gripped the wheel tightly, the skin on his knuckles pulling over the bone and turning white. I faced forward, not talking to him or looking at him; instead, I focused on the beam of the headlights. He pushed down on the gas, zooming up to about seventy.

"Are you mad?" I asked – there had been silence for so long, my voice sounded alien to my own ears.

"No, just frustrated," He replied gruffly. We began zoom faster, the dial on the speedometer quickly rising closer to 100 mph.

"Maybe you should slow down," I suggested.

"Maybe I shouldn't," He responded, his tone sharp.

I exhaled, looking away from him. Then, placing a smile on my face, I turned back to face him, "That was a pretty lame comeback."

"Nice try, hun," He chuckled curtly. "But only _I _can lighten the mood by criticizing the state of the conversation."

"Who said only you can do it?" I crossed my arms across my chest.

"God, you are moody," He shook his head.

"I'm moody?" I mused. "You're the one that chose to be all grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy," He shook his head, the speedometer still climbing.

"Slow down before you kill us both," I frowned, glaring at him.

"How much you want to bet that I'm a better driver than you?" He looked over at me.

"It has nothing to do with who's the better driver," I exhaled. "You hit one slippery patch, and we're both going down."

"Well, then maybe if you value your life," Nathaniel's tone of voice grew rougher. "You shouldn't make me mad and then put me behind the wheel of a car."

"Maybe you're right," I stated, fuming. "Maybe I should just get out." I put my hand on the door handle.

Nathaniel exploded, "Are you insane! Don't you dare …!"

Without warning, Nathaniel slammed on the breaks, the both of us wrenching forward. My heart slammed inside my chest.

"Why did you …?" I shouted at him, enraged.

"Damn," He shook his head, slouching in his seat. "Damn moose …."

I glanced out the windshield and standing directly in the center of the road was a gigantic moose, far bigger than Nathaniel's car without doubt.

"Damn moose would've crushed my car flat," He finished.

"I doubt it," I turned away from him. "At the speed you were going, we'd probably have zoomed right through it and not even noticed."

Surprisingly, he laughed.

"This isn't the Autobahn," I glimpsed over at him – he was still laughing. "You are a cop, right? You of all people should abide by the speed limit …"

He interrupted, still laughing, "Stop, stop."

"W-what?" I sputtered, irritated.

"Stop making me laugh," He pleaded, unbuckling.

"I'm not trying to make you laugh," I shook my head.

"Then stop being adolescent," he exhaled, unlocking his door and getting out. "You're irrationality is too amusing to me."

I felt the need to burst. "Irrationality? If anyone is being irrational around here it's you." I got out of the car as well.

Nathaniel exhaled, his plaid, button up shirt blowing in the wind. He stood in the beam of the headlights, watching the moose heatedly as it slowly crossed the street. Once it disappeared into the woods, he turned to me.

"Yes, Scarlett," He sighed exasperatedly, sarcastic. "I'm so sorry for being irrational. I'm so sorry for trying to be your friend to the best of my ability. I'm so sorry that I'm not the guy you were hoping for. I'm so sorry not all of us can be perfect – unfortunately, babe, that's not the way God intended."

"I-I …" I tried to protest, but he didn't let me.

"I don't think you understand something, sweetheart," Nathaniel watched me with aggravated eyes. "There are more people in this world than just you. It's not like everyone will bow down to your every command. Not everyone can measure up to your standards."

I refused to stand here and listen to him insult me, "I don't want you to measure up to my standards! I don't have standards! I just want to be …."

"Be what?" Nathaniel fumed after I was silent for a couple of moments.

"I want to be happy, okay?" I exploded, stomping my foot like a toddler. I reached over and slammed the open driver's door shut. "Is that such a crime?"

Nathaniel's eyes floated down to the pavement, no longer aggravated, but guilty. "See what I mean by adolescent?"

"What are you going on about now?" I detonated, unable to calm down.

"You just stomped your foot," He grinned, looking back up at me. "How more adolescent can you get?"

I exhaled, running my hand through my hair and turning away from him.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Nathaniel apologized, his hand gently grabbing my wrist. "I just took out all that anger that's been bottled up for so long and dropped it all on you like a bomb … and that was wrong."

"But you had good reason to be mad at me," I mumbled.

"No, I didn't," Nathaniel denied, looking up at the sky and then back down at me. "You were right. You can't control what your brain comes up with. I just couldn't understand why you'd want to get rid of me …"

I interrupted, "I don't want to get rid of you."

He didn't seem to accept my answer at first, but, finally, he smiled. And that reassured me that it was over. Moreover, whether he believed me or not, he recognized it and acknowledged it. And that was all I wanted.

"Well, I think this fight helped us," He decided. I raised an eyebrow, confused. "All the battles we have against each other make us stronger."

"Yeah," I laughed flatly. "It was fun butting heads with you."

Nathaniel shook his head, chuckling under his breath.

"Can you take me home now?" I asked, walking around to my side of the car. "And this time, can you go a bit slower?"

"Sure," He allowed, getting in and starting the car.


	13. Chapter 12

After awhile, time didn't mean that much to me anymore.

I assumed it was because everyday's routine was beautifully simple; I'd lost the need to keep track of everything. Nathaniel and the rest of the Quileutes made it easier for me as well, of course. Without them, I'd probably have moped for the past weeks, counting the seconds as they passed like some sort of lunatic.

What is more, each day I spent with them made me forget. Forget the pain, the anxiety, the loss. Nathaniel's smiling face, his lively laugh, and his sympathetic nature that inspired me, to say the least – he made me feel pretty optimistic, for a pessimist, that is.

Nonetheless, I never forgot Mason. I wouldn't allow myself to.

In one of my many hopeless internal rampages, I thought of something. Nathaniel was so carefree, so perhaps it would make things easier if I just followed his example. So, the next night that I had the dream, I didn't let the unfortunate and the painful events bother me; instead, I focused on the happy – ergo, I concentrated on Mason's face more than anything else.

It helped … a bit. But it was progress, and that's what I'd been aiming for.

I woke that morning feeling refreshed – I was proud of myself; I had survived through a whole night without tears or screaming or fear. However, I wasn't sure how long this new concept of mine would last … for all I knew, I would go to bed tonight and wake up at a ridiculously late hour, kicking and shrieking as I had the past week or two.

As I went down the steps, I considered what life would've been like devoid of Nathaniel … and, shuddering, I pushed the thought away. These past weeks would've been horrible, scary almost. Who knows what being trapped in this big house of mine with nothing to do would potentially drive me to?

Pulling the hem of my shirt down, I entered the kitchen, reaching into the refrigerator. My supply of Mason-made meals was running low, so a trip to the grocery store was definitely in order. I reached into the lower shelf of my fridge and pulled out a green apple, taking a big bite out of it.

Reaching over, I flipped on my iPod dock, an alternative song rebelliously pouring out of the speakers.

Startling me, there was a loud knock on the door.

I glanced over at the clock on my microwave, reading: 9:03. _What is he doing here so early? _I wondered to myself.

I walked over to the door, opening it swiftly. "Hey, Nathaniel." 

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were expecting someone."

It was Krista.

She certainly was a sight for sore eyes. Her face was red, swollen from all the tears, and her hair was a wretched mess. She was in baggy sweatpants and a sweatshirt – never, for as long as I'd known her, had I ever seen her in such a rut.

"Krista, hi," I exhaled, helping her in the door. "Come in."

"Sorry I didn't call first," She continued to apologize, taking off her coat and placing it on the banister. "I just wanted to talk to you – I need your voice."

"It's fine," I shook my head, leading her to the living room and setting her down on the couch. "Don't worry about it."

"Are you kidding?" She laughed flatly. "All I've been doing is worrying."

"Oh, that's right," I sat down beside her. "Asher's still missing. I thought they would've caught up to him by now."

"The police don't have any new leads," She mumbled.

"Well, remember the Forks PD is busy enough with that wolf," Thoughts of my nightmare filled my brain, but I pushed it away immediately – I was determined to give every bit of my attention to my despairing friend.

"I know," She nodded, sniffling. "The Forks PD isn't handling it now. We found out a couple days ago that Asher is not anywhere in the Pacific Northwest. So there was a national notice sent out … the whole country's looking for him."

My thoughts raged, _Asher, how far were you willing to go? _"I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," She shook her head, trying her best to smile.

_Yes, it was! Tell her now, she's your friend and she deserves to know! _"I'm still sorry."

"Yes, well," She exhaled, and then she shook her head, eager to change the subject. "Well, enough about me. What about you? Who is this Nathaniel I've heard so little about?"

"Just a friend," I told her. "Nathaniel Redborn. He lives up in La Push."

"Oh, that's nice," She smiled. "I recognize the name from somewhere."

"Redborn?" I exhaled.

"Ah, yeah, I remember," Krista nodded, wrapping her jacket around her. "He was quite the troublemaker as a child."

"How do you know?" My eyebrow rose.

"My older sister was a kindergarten teacher at the Quileute School up on the Reservation and Nathaniel was one of her students," She explained. "I was only a teenager at the time, but for a month or so I was her aide for community service."

She paused to smile.

"Oh, that boy had to be the biggest attention hog I'd ever seen," Krista giggled. "He would always be so funny and make the cutest faces just to get a laugh out of people."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"And he was very athletic," She continued. "But I remember he didn't start hanging out with boys until the end of the year. He always hung out with that one girl … oh, what was her name?"

"Robyn?" I guessed.

"That was it," She smiled. "Robyn Whitman. How do you know her?"

"I'm friends with Nathaniel and Robyn," I answered. "Well, as of a couple weeks ago. They still live down on the Reservation."

"Hmm, small world," Krista grinned, clasping her hands together. "So how did they turn out?"

"Well, Robyn's married to Adam," I informed her. "Do you know him?"

"Adam Moore?" Krista guessed. I nodded. "Oh, you're kidding me. He was a nice boy … but he's so much older than her!"

"Not by much," I shrugged.

"Think of it from my perspective," She sighed. "When I knew Robyn, when she was a kindergartener, Adam was in fourth grade. And that means … when she was a freshman in high school, he was a freshman in college."

"Oh, but they're still so good together," I told her. "You should see them."

"And Nathaniel? What about him?" Krista seemed frivolous, her depressed mood briefly forgotten. "Is he married yet? I wouldn't be surprised."

"No, not yet," I shook my head. "Why wouldn't you be surprised?"

"My sister said he was quite the promiscuous type by the time he got to high school," She leaned back on the couch, crossing her legs.

I was quiet for a long moment. "Well, definitely not anymore. He's become a very considerate person … and a great friend. He's actually a police officer."

"In Forks?" She asked warily.

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

"Well, that clears things up," She frowned, standing. "No wonder they haven't found my son yet. Do they just let anyone off the street become a cop these days? Do they have to resort to letting jokes like him into the Department?"

"Nathaniel's no joke," I stood as well, following her into the foyer. "You should see how seriously he takes his job."

"Obviously not seriously enough," She frowned.

"Krista, they'll find Asher, I know it," I tried to comfort her. "But you can't blame Nathaniel for any of this. He's trying his hardest."

"I'm sorry," she exhaled, grabbing her coat. "I just want my son back."

I watched as her face fell, her despondence returning. I felt totally guilty – she'd come to me for comfort and she'd leave feeling even more hurt than before. Would I ever be able to get through a conversation without infuriating someone?

Breaking my train of thought, the doorbell rang.

"Looks like I should leave," Krista pulled her wide brown eyes away from mine. "Sorry to disturb you."

"Krista," I stepped forward as she hurriedly put on her coat. "Don't leave in a huff. I'm sorry if I did something wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong," She reassured me, reaching for the door handle. "It's all my problem – I should've known better than to come into your content little life and spoil everything."

I tried to calm her down. "That's not true. I love your company …"

"Don't try to butter it up," She opened the door, practically running face first into Nathaniel's chest. "I should've known better, considering how flustered I am right now."

"Krista, come back!" I yelled after, stepping out onto the porch and around Nathaniel. I went down the steps, trying to get to her car, but she backed out of the driveway and zoomed down the street before I was even off the front walk.

I slouched, disappointed.

"Was that …?" Nathaniel walked down the steps and stood beside me.

"Krista Elliot," I said with a frown on my face, crossing my arms across my chest. "Asher's mom."

"Why was she yelling at you?" He wondered.

"Why shouldn't she be?" I replied. "She's going through a lot right now. I took nothing she said personally – I know she's just upset."

Nathaniel nodded.

We stood there at the bottom of the stairs, our eyes following Krista's car as it vanished around the corner. I exhaled, my breath visible in the air. It seemed that, whether Asher was found or not, Krista could never be able to get over this.

A wound that could never heal.

"Oh, here," Nathaniel shuffled out of his coat and placed it around my shoulders. "You really shouldn't be out here without a coat." I wrapped the jacket tightly around me.

Glancing over at Nathaniel, I realized he was wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt and jean shorts.

"You really shouldn't be out here wearing just that," I turned to face him. "I wouldn't even wear that in the summertime here if I were you."

"I'm not cold at all," He shrugged.

"I don't care," I shook my head, pushing him up the steps. "Get inside before you freeze to death."

"Yes, _mother_."

Nathaniel walked into the foyer, standing there idly for a moment, waiting for me to come in. I walked past him, handing him his coat, and made my way into the kitchen.

"So, you're early," I pointed out.

"Only by half an hour," He clarified. "But it doesn't really matter. I don't think we'll be going to Robyn's today."

"Why not?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm, everyone's busy," He answered. "Robyn and Adam are up visiting Adam's parents, and they took Hawk with them. Then Tommy has school today and Zach started his job this morning. Shane has a date with that girl that was selling snacks at the movie theater later today, and everybody else felt like staying home."

I leaned against the counter. "That leaves you."

"Oh, well, I'm spending the day with a beautiful girl, so …" He chuckled.

"Why thank you," I waved my hand. "You're so kind."

His eyes widened, biting his lip. "I wasn't talking about you."

My face flushed an embarrassing shade of pink as I tangled my fingers together, utterly humiliated. "Oh."

There was silence for a moment.

Nathaniel leaned forward and poked me in the stomach, laughing. "You should've seen your face! You looked so mortified! … And, yes, I _was_ talking about you, silly."

I glared playfully at him. "Well, I'm gonna go get changed."

"Yeah, I was gonna say," He chuckled. "Nice pajamas."

I looked down at my white pajamas that were covered in multicolored little hearts. I'd gotten them for college, and, honestly, since I'd only been bunking with girls, I didn't really care what my pajamas looked like; however, I didn't really ever imagine I'd be wearing them in front of a guy.

"Really, the hearts are just adorable," Nathaniel rubbed his nose.

I rolled my eyes at him, turning to the foyer and hurrying up the steps. I didn't find it polite to keep Nathaniel waiting.

I changed quickly into a pair of blue jeans and a nice plaid shirt. While I was slipping on some ankle socks, a beeping noise caught my attention.

I glanced over at Mason's laptop to see that it was blinking.

Lifting the lid, I realized the computer was wide awake, and it assumingly had been ever since Mason left. It was alerting him that he'd got a new email from his mother …. But, if he was with her, then why was she emailing him?

Dear Mason,

Thank you so much for coming down to visit me – I just hope you know that your company was very much appreciated.

By the way, you seemed to be hanging out with your brothers much more; I don't think I've seen that for awhile, and I just want to thank you because I know what you're doing. You wanted everyone to get along in these tough times; I can't thank you enough.

Good luck with that new job of yours.

Love,

Mom

P.S. – remember, you have yet to tell me what's so exciting about that new place your living in … what was it? Spoons? … No, that wasn't it.

I laughed at that last part.

Hmm. So many questions were circulating around inside my head.

Mason was hanging out with his brothers more? Well, that was nice. I never recalled Mason and siblings actually getting along, so it was so very kind of him to step up and cooperate for his mom's sake. And what about the part where she said 'good luck with that new job'? Was she referring to the job that Coop had offered him?

And at the end, when his mother had referred to Forks, since he'd mentioned it to his family, did that mean he intended to stay? It also struck me when his mother said 'you have yet to tell me what's so exciting about that new place' – apparently, Mason had hinted that he was living in Forks but he hadn't told his family about me yet.

However, one part punctured me the most.

If Mason was not with his mother, it meant he was _coming_ _back_. The words seemed utterly surreal, so I had to say them aloud for it to stick.

"Coming back," I whispered … it didn't stick.

Nonetheless, I refused to get overexcited; as much as I hated it, my nightmare had taught me something – never expect anything when it comes to love, because it too often deceives you.

Jerking me away from my thoughts, I heard something fall downstairs. It was just then that I remembered I'd left Nathaniel down there for awhile now; and as much as I felt the urge to sit at the front door, waiting for Mason's car to pull up – and I was completely positive I would go to those lengths when it came to Mason – I knew it would be rude of me to ignore my guest completely.

So shutting Mason's laptop, I hurried back down the steps.

"What'd you break?" I wondered, turning the corner into the living room.

Nathaniel's eyes had been focused on the dining room chair that was lying haphazardly on the floor by the bookshelf, but his eyes shot up to me when he heard my voice.

"Nothing," he shook his head, putting up his hands defensively. "I was just getting something and … the chair fell."

"All by itself?" I chuckled. "Or did Casper do it?"

Nathaniel stuck his tongue out at me like a child.

"What's that?" I pointed to what he was holding behind his back.

"Oh, well, this is what I was getting, but I needed to stand up on a chair to get it from the bookshelf," He pulled a photo album out from behind him.

"You? Needed to stand up on a chair? I would've figured you're tall enough to reach the top shelf," I walked over and picked up the chair, tucking it back under the dining room table.

"Well, actually it was on the very top, collecting dust," He chuckled. "I almost missed it."

My eyes snapped over to the photo album he was holding, staring closer so I could tell which specific one he'd grabbed. I had several, just so I could never forget some memories that just couldn't be forgotten – I had never been very good with letting go of the past.

"Give that back," I reached out for it. "Can't you take a hint? If it's on the top maybe I don't want anyone to see it."

"Why not?" Nathaniel laughed, holding it above his head so I couldn't reach it. "Is it personal?"

"Please put it back," I whimpered.

"Relax, I will," He smiled widely.

I exhaled, relieved.

Then he added, "Right after I look in it." Before I could protest, he flipped it open turning to the middle of the book.

"Ugh," I frowned.

"Aw!" Nathaniel grinned widely. "It's Scarlett as a baby! How cute!"

"It was a gift from my mom," I shook my head, running my hand through my hair. "I swear it was."

"Yeah, sure," He chuckled. "Aw, look at this one. Scarlett's first Halloween … you were an octopus! That's so adorable!"

"That's enough," I snatched the book away.

"I barely got to see any, though," He whined.

"You'd think I'd remember to throw something like this away," I shook my head, turning away from him and walking into the kitchen.

I stood on my tiptoes, placing the album on top of the refrigerator.

"I can reach that, you know," He chuckled.

"Well, if you know what's good for you, you won't try to," I put my hands on my hips.

Nathaniel threw his head back, laughing loudly. Then he stepped forward, bending down so we were face-to-face. "What are you gonna do to me if I do?"

His steady breath paralyzed me for a moment, a chill going up my spine.

I didn't understand – after all this time with him, I'd tried my hardest to push him away, to prove that Mason was my only love; but, at this very moment, I began to question my motives. Why was Nathaniel so bad? Why had I decided not to love him and to love Mason instead?

Granted, I had no sensible alibi, but love was too crazy to be sensible.

"Are you going to answer me, sweetheart?" He smiled widely, staring into my wide eyes. The face I must've been making was probably hysterical.

Without a word, I poked him in the stomach and he cringed, ticklish.

I walked around him and opened up the refrigerator, leaning in and grabbing a soda. I could hear him chuckling silently under his breath. "So what are we going to do today?" I turned to face him.

"I think I've been horribly selfish," he exhaled. "For the past few weeks, all we've done is hang out with _my_ friends, in _my_ town, doing things _I_ want to do … and that all sounds rather self-absorbed, doesn't it?"

"I guess so," I replied.

"Well, today, I'm going to spend a day in the life of Scarlett Posey," He leaned against the counter by my iPod dock. "And, if by the end of the day, I have not gotten pryingly deep under your skin, I'll consider this a failed mission."

"Oh, so it's a _mission_ now?" I laughed.

"I'm determined to find out everything I need to know about you," He shook his fist. "I'll be the detective and you'll be the mystery."

"That's a rather childish philosophy," I commentated.

"Perhaps, but it'll work," He decided. "So, show me your idea of everyday."

"Well, then," I pushed away from the counter. "Get ready for the most boring day of your life."

"I highly doubt it'll be boring," He grinned.

"If you say so," I shrugged, turning back to the counter and taking a sip of my soda. "So, what's first?"

There was silence for a moment as we both paused to think.

Nathaniel spoke first, "Hmm, what's your favorite food?"

"Well, that was incredibly random," I put the soda on the counter by the sink basin and crossed my arms across my chest, smiling widely.

"Just answer it," He shook his head, an adorable expression on his face.

"Hmm, spaghetti, I guess …" I answered but he interrupted me.

"Alrighty then, let's make some spaghetti," he pushed off the counter and walked over to my pantry.

"Spaghetti? Right now?" My tone questioned his sanity. "It's like 9:30."

"Yeah, so?" He popped his head out of the pantry and raised an eyebrow. "Does it matter what time it is?"

"Well, no, but …"

He was out of the pantry and in front of me in seconds, interrupting me again, "No buts, little girl. We're making spaghetti."

"Fine, then," I allowed.

Nathaniel hurried back into the pantry and grabbed a box of pasta, tossing to it to me swiftly. I almost didn't catch it, but I was able to grab it just before it hit the floor.

"You should know better than to throw stuff at me," I reprimanded.

"Well, for a second, I thought you would actually be a normal person and catch it," His voice wafted to be from inside the pantry.

"Me? Normal?" I chuckled, pulling a pot out from under the sink and filling it with water. "No way."

His laugh burst through the air, giving me the chills.

Once the pot was filled to the brim, I placed it on the stovetop and cranked up the heat. It was bubbling in a matter of minutes.

"Where's your marinara sauce?" Nathaniel asked me, stepping out of the pantry for a moment.

"We need marinara sauce, too?" I moaned.

"What's spaghetti without marinara, darling?" He grinned.

"Noodles," I answered, putting my hands on my hips.

"Which are boring," he responded, frowning. "What's so bad about marinara anyway? Afraid to step out on a limb?" He guffawed.

"It's just sauce," I stuck out my lower lip.

Nathaniel's adorable – and still completely unintentional – puppy dog face crossed his expression.

"Well, if it means that much to you, it's on the top shelf," I finally replied.

"That's all I wanted to know," He sauntered back into the pantry, out of my sight. I could hear him laughing under his breath.

"Why do you always do that?" I called to him.

"Do what?" He answered me.

"That pouty thing," I answered. "Where your eyes are all big and … I don't know, but you always do it."

"What can I say?" His voice had a tint of hilarity in it. "I'm very _persuasive_."

Once he brought out the marinara sauce, we put that in a pot to simmer on the stovetop, as well. Nathaniel ambled over to the table, plopping himself down into one of the chairs; I remained standing by the pot, stirring the sauce until it began to bubble.

"So, with the spaghetti almost ready," Nathaniel exhaled after a few quiet moments. "What's your favorite song?"

"Hmm, I don't think I have one at the moment," I answered honestly.

"C'mon, you have to have a favorite song," Nathaniel sighed.

I shook my head.

He continued, "Not even a song that's stuck in your head?"

"Well, nothing in particular comes to mind," I told him. "But I guess, if I had to pick …." I glanced over at my iPod dock.

Nathaniel eyed me, waiting for a straightforward response patiently.

"Watch the noodles," I instructed.

"I'll guard them with my life," he joked in all seriousness, standing and taking the spoon from me.

I walked over to my iPod dock and bent down to look at the screen, my thumb gently scrolling down the screen through my playlist. I wasn't quite sure what song I was looking for – I was tempted to just speedily spin through the list, press play, and go with whatever came on.

Eventually, I found a song that I hadn't listened to in a long while. To be honest, I'd hated the song at first and regretted buying it; the only reason I had was because Taylor was always singing it in grade school. However, after awhile, I came to love it. I guess the things you come to adore never stick at first.

It was very raw, about wanting other people when no one else was there.

"Hmm," Nathaniel critiqued, still stirring the sauce steadily. "This is pretty. But the lyrics sound a little desperate … sounds like _you_ wrote it."

"Are you calling me _desperate_?" I leaned against the counter.

"Not directly," he looked away. "Where do you keep bowls?"

"In the cabinet to your right," I replied, quietly singing along to the chorus.

Nathaniel grabbed two bowls out of the cabinet and set them down on the counter. As he was pouring the noodles into them, he glanced over at me, "We have spaghetti, we have music. Next, why don't we do … favorite movie?"

"_Twilight_," I responded almost instinctively.

"Oh, no," He shook his head, putting spoons into the bowls. "Sorry, hun, I am most definitely not a fan."

"Aw, but you live in La Push and everything!" I protested.

"That's no excuse," Nathaniel laughed, handing me a bowl and walking into the living room. "Just because I live in the land of _Twilight_, doesn't mean I'm in love with it."

"You don't have to be," I smiled as we sat down on the couch. "C'mon, just watch it" – I leaned over and batted my eyelashes at him – "for me?"

He froze where he sat.

After several motionless seconds, I waved my hand in front of his face, "Hello? Anybody home?"

"Pop in the DVD," Nathaniel said blankly, slightly paralyzed and eyes wide.

"Note to self," I teased, standing and taking the DVD out of the case. "Woo Nathaniel and he'll do whatever you want."

"I won't do _whatever_ you want," He rolled his eyes.

I turned to look at him, "Really?"

"Ugh, just start the movie," Nathaniel exhaled. "I want to get this torture over and done with."

"I thought you wanted a day in the life of Scarlett Posey," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but you don't watch this everyday," He shook his head. "Do you?"

"I'm not going to answer that," I pressed play and walked around the coffee table to sit beside him on the couch.

We watched the movie all the way through, and he hated it, I could tell. He laughed at the most romantic lines and rolled his eyes at the intentionally comedic lines; he complained up until the very end at the prom scene – at that part, he remained pleasantly silent. And I wasn't quite sure why.

After it ended, we watched _New Moon _and then _Eclipse_ after that, despite Nathaniel's unremitting complaints. I would've gone on to _Breaking Dawn_, but that's where he drew the line. By the time we finished all three movies, it was already dark outside, almost 7:00.

"Well, that was a great waste of my time," Nathaniel frowned, walking into the foyer and stopping at the bottom of the stairwell.

"It couldn't have been _that_ bad," I shrugged. "Remember you did it for me."

"For you, right," he chuckled. "I'm beginning to question my motives."

I nodded, laughing also.

He pulled out his phone, checking to see if he had any new messages. He must've caught sight of the time, "Is it that late already?"

"It's not _that_ late," I exhaled. "Only seven o'clock."

"No," He shook his head. "I promised my boss I'd meet him at the station to exchange paperwork at six-thirty."

"Oh, well, let me get your coat," I rushed into the kitchen.

"It's no use, honey," He frowned, following me. "Donahue's probably long gone by now. He's not a very patient guy."

"I'm sorry," I stuck my hands into my back jean pockets. "Oh, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have kept you so long."

"It's not a problem – don't blame yourself," Nathaniel countered, picking his jacket up off the table. "I can explain it to him later. Besides, I had a lot of fun with you today."

I nodded, "Same here."

"Well, I should be going," he smiled. "I might not see you tomorrow."

"What? Why?" I questioned, following him back into the foyer.

"Time's up," he answered. "Three weeks ended today."

"You've been counting?" I raised an eyebrow, leaning against the banister. I watched as his eyes floated down to the floor, a warm smile on his face.

"Not counting," He shook his head. "Relishing, mostly."

I said nothing in return.

"Maybe they weren't for you," he shrugged, resting his hand on the door handle. "But these three weeks have been the best of my entire life."

I ran my hand through my hair. So many emotions were running through me at that very moment, they were uncontrollable. "Yeah, they were pretty good."

His hopes plummeted. "Pretty good?"

I saved him, "Great. They were great. Way up there on my list."

"What's on the top of said list?" He exhaled. "Mason?"

I gulped before responding, "Now, now. Let's not end a perfectly good day with an unnecessary argument."

"I wasn't going to argue," he denied.

I could hear each droplet of rain bounce off the pavement outside, I could hear the rain as it rushed down the gutter; and the marvelous noise of running water sent a certain sense of serenity through me. For some odd reason, Forks always seemed to unintentionally present the right atmosphere at just the right time.

"I'm gonna say it again," I stepped forward. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

"You don't have to keep saying that," He exhaled. "It's impossible for you to offend me, Scarlett."

"Not impossible," I laughed silently.

"Not impossible," He repeated after me.

"Well, I guess you should be going," I sighed with a smile. "Maybe you can still catch Chief Donahue if you run for it."

"If I'm lucky," He slouched his shoulders.

"Bye," I stepped back again, tangling my fingers behind my back.

Nathaniel approached me quickly, giving me no chance to react, placing his lips on mine in an instant. He was passionate, trying to get a reaction out of me, I could tell. I remained inert, however, utterly stunned and still as stone. His kiss felt alien, unnatural almost – but I knew it wasn't his fault. It was only because his lips weren't Mason's.

It was then that I had a revelation.

Ever since that day I had met Nathaniel for the first time and Mason had come to me, everything became beautifully spontaneous. Everything was spur-of-the-moment, and I loved it; there was no moment I could predict, no moment that couldn't baffle me, and no moment that wasn't locked away into my memory bank forever. These past weeks had been the longest, most convoluted, and most brilliant of my short lifetime.

"No," I pulled away from him, stepping back but bumping into the railing.

"Why not?" His lips hovered centimeters from mine, never moving.

This was the moment where I wished I'd listened to Coop – this was the moment where I regretted never telling him that Mason wasn't gone forever. It would've saved a lot of heartbreak on Nathaniel's part, of course, but then again, I probably wouldn't have learned everything about him that I knew now. If he had known my I belonged someone else, he wouldn't have opened up to me so easily.

"Because I can't," I answered. "Mason, he …"

Nathaniel interrupted. "Mason's gone. He's never coming back. I understand if you still have feelings for him, but it's time to move on …. I did."

"But he …" I tried to explain.

I was interrupted again, "Answer this. Why do you refuse to love me?"

"I don't refuse to love you," I shook my head. "If you recall, I told you I did. I love you more than you will ever know, but not …"

"Not in that way," he finished for me. "I know."

"Please," I begged, trying to discretely push him away without him noticing. "Understand, please."

"I'm trying to," he frowned. "Why don't you just let him go? I'll be twice the man he ever was. I will be by your side every second of every day – I'll never leave you, not like he did."

"But I can't …" I tried again.

"I love you, Scarlett," He exhaled, still tragically close to me. "And I will forever, far more than he can."

My insides iced over – I was immediately paralyzed.

Maybe it wasn't word for word, but I'd heard what he said. Instantaneously, Nathaniel's broken face filtered in front of my eyes – the Nathaniel from my dreams. He stood there amongst the dark trees, eyes apologetic and hand extended out to me, _I love you, far more than he ever will_.

I refused to believe it; I just wouldn't let Mason slip from my grasp that simply. Of course, it would be easier to just surrender, to let Nathaniel kiss me as he wished, to love him. But I wouldn't allow it – never.

"It's a promise," Nathaniel vowed, snapping me back to reality.

I took a deep breath, searching Nathaniel's chocolate eyes for something – an answer, perhaps.

"Mason's not gone."

"What do you mean?" His inquiring eyes stared me down.

"Well, he _is_ gone," I shrugged, running my hand through my hair again, nervous. "But he's coming back."

Nathaniel exhaled, a combination of a sigh and a laugh. "Scarlett, you can't keep wishing and hoping he'll come. You can't be sure of anything."

"This I'm sure of," I reassured him. "I know exactly where he is. He went to his grandmother's funeral in Philadelphia, and he said he'd be back in three weeks … it's been three weeks. He should be back any day now."

"That's not a very good boyfriend," Nathaniel protested, refusing to believe me. "If I were him, I would've taken you with me."

"He had his reasons," I explained. "And I tried my hardest to respect them. He thought a funeral wasn't the right place or time to introduce me to his family. And this was a hard time for him and his mother. I would only be getting in the way."

Nathaniel's eyes retreated to mine – his gaze was heartbreaking. "So I was just a distraction for you until Mason got back? That's why these past weeks meant nothing to you?"

"That's not true," I denied. "These past weeks meant everything to me."

"That's not what you said a minute ago – you said they were 'pretty good'," Nathaniel frowned. "And why didn't you tell me sooner? You decided to keep it your little secret?"

"I was going to tell you," I explained myself. "But I saw how much fun you were having, your smile was lifesaving. I just couldn't bring myself to take that smile away, I wouldn't."

Nathaniel was silent, avoiding my eyes at all costs. Instead, his eyes retreated left, to the window above my sink in the kitchen. I could only watch as his eyes studied each raindrop that pounded against the glass, as his stare grew more and more distant. I knew what was happening.

The Nathaniel I knew was gone – I'd "offended" him for the last time.

"I give up," he mumbled, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"On what?" I wondered.

"Trying to convince you to love me," He swiftly reached over and opened the door. The mist from the falling rain hit the two of us immediately, fluming through the front door frenziedly.

"I don't think you should," I tried to console him.

"And why not?" He stepped out on the porch, expecting me to follow him, but I remained in the doorway. "It makes sense for me to do so considering you're _unavailable_." He spoke the last word with the utmost antipathy.

"Aha, but there is your flaw," I bit my lip. His eyes had previously been focused on the woods across the street but they shot over to me when I spoke. "Love is completely groundless, it's not allowed to make sense."

"Scarlett, I …" Nathaniel was about to speak but the sound of a revving engine caught our attention.

Both of our heads turned to the street, noticing a sleek black Mercedes slowing to pull into my driveway.

My heart pounded inside my chest – Mason was mere steps away. This time he wasn't a hallucination in one of my harebrained nightmares, he wasn't a image stored in my imagination. Now he was _real_; he was actually tangible, he was actually breathing. And he was all mine.

"Mason," I exhaled, the name sending shivers up my spine.

Nathaniel waved his had in front of my face. "Do you say my name like that every time I pull up?"

"Uh, I …" I tangled my fingers together.

"Don't worry," Nathaniel ground his teeth together. "Obviously I'm not as important to you."

"Nathaniel, don't," I frowned. We both heard a car door slam shut. "You should leave."

"Now you don't even want me in your house?" Nathaniel shook his head.

He started to head back out onto the front porch when I stopped him, "Maybe you should go out the back way."

"Why?" He snapped.

"What will Mason think?" I stammered, trying to push him towards the back porch door – he didn't budge. "He'll be mad at me."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Nathaniel shook his head, fumingly storming out of the front door.

I dashed out on the front porch after him.

Nathaniel sped down the stairs before I could catch up to him, skipping every other stair as he went. He almost ran into Mason on the way down the walkway, but he hastily swept around him to get to his car.

The two didn't speak – Nathaniel hardly paid any attention to Mason at all. However, Mason stood in the middle of the walkway frozenly, watching Nathaniel as he climbed into his ratty old Ford. Mason gripped his suitcase handle tightly, his back turned to me.

I couldn't begin to imagine what thoughts were running through Mason's head – who knew what he was beginning to assume? Who knew what he thought of me? He probably was thinking that I was a horrible girlfriend … and he'd be right. But it wasn't just that – I was horrible in general.

I should've told Nathaniel that Mason was coming back. I shouldn't have kept Nathaniel and the rest of the Quileutes at bay; all of them seemed to be anxiously waiting for the day that Nathaniel and I would get together, but I had been the only one who knew that day would never come.

There were actually a lot of things I wished I'd done.

But it was too late to go back and change them now.

I decided to stop focusing on my faults, and instead I decided to focus on how my wait was finally over. Mason was back, and this time, it wasn't just a dream.

"Scarlett—" Mason began to turn to me but I didn't let him finish speaking.

I didn't even give him time to turn around; I ran to him, jumping on him as soon as possible. He was a bit stunned by my urgency at first, but after a few stunned moments, he let go of his suitcase and wrapped his arms around me.

I pulled away, just to see his face – to know this wasn't an illusion.

Mason was just as beautiful as I remembered. It was just then that I realized, my nightmares hadn't done him justice; he was far more gorgeous than any silly dream. His blue eyes seemed to see right through me, as if he could see straight into my soul.

"I missed you—" I rudely interrupted him again.

My lips instantly collided with his, giving him little time to breathe. I couldn't believe he was finally back, finally in my arms. His kiss made me feel explosive, my heart pumping inside of me riotously.

In need of air, Mason pulled my head back. "Well, hello to you too."

"Never, _ever_ leave me again," I exhaled, bringing his mouth to mine again.

Between kisses, he breathed, "Of course not."

Mason stumbled back into his suitcase, still a bit stunned apparently. I just didn't know what took over me; my love for him was insanely irrepressible, and as of now, there was nothing I was going to do to change that.

"Wait, wait," He chuckled silently, pulling me back again.

"I haven't seen you in weeks," I pouted. "The least you can do is kiss me."

"Yes, well," He shrugged, still holding me tightly in his grasp and pressing me up against him. "As much as I enjoy kissing you, what I would love more than anything right now is to hear your voice. I've missed your voice."

"Uh, what do you want me to say?" I exhaled.

"Hmm, I don't care," He rested his lips on my jaw, sending my pulse fluttering.

"Okay, then I won't say anything at all," I decided.

"Now that defeats the purpose," He countered, kissing my temple lovingly.

"I missed you … a lot," I confessed.

"I must say, I'm not surprised," He admitted. Then quickly adding before I could respond, "But I am surprised at how much _I_ missed _you_."

I blushed.

"I just don't understand," He divulged. "You're like a disease. I just can't seem to get rid of you."

"I feel the same," I said. "But not like a disease, more like an addiction."

"Well, we both end up in the asylum either way," He smiled widely. I'd missed his smile, more than I realized.

Mason stood there kissing me, and I had never felt more vivid in my entire life. He was my salvation, practically bringing me to life. Never in a million years had I thought that one person could make me feel like this – when he was gone, I felt like stone, emotionless; but now that he was back, every bone in my body was staggeringly on fire.

He pulled away again. "I trust you've been a good girl while I was gone?"

"Nothing happened," I vowed. "I promise."

A wide smile crossed Mason's face as he pulled me back in. "Good."

Our lips were not even centimeters when I smelt something vulgar. At first I tried to ignore it, but it was too redolent to overlook.

"What is that?" I sniffed, stepping back.

"What's what?" Mason looked at me confusedly.

"That disgusting smell," I leaned forward, sniffing his shirt. "It's you."

"Wow," He chuckled under his breath. "Thanks, I love you, too."

"No," I shook my head, crossing my arms across my chest. "You smell like … like smoke."

He exhaled, "I was around my brothers a lot. Cole is in college now, and he did have quite a few cigarettes. But I didn't – you just smell secondhand smoke."

"Alright," I frowned.

I leaned in to kiss him, making him assume that everything was okay again. Nonetheless, I was really investigating. Once he let me get close enough, I could smell the smoke on his breath. He couldn't lie to me.

Pushing away, I walked around him to his Mercedes, opening the driver side door. In the center console was a pack of cigarettes; it was a half-full – or perhaps, considering the gravity of the situation, this more of a half-empty scenario.

I grabbed it and turned to face him. "Just secondhand, huh?"

"Scarlett, I can explain," He exhaled. "I've been going through a lot right now."

"So have I," I looked at him. "But you don't see me sucking on death."

"One or two of those won't kill you," he waved his hand carelessly, laughing at my immaturity.

"Yeah, but by the look of this pack, I'd assume you had more than one or two," I bit my lip. "And how am I supposed to know you didn't have twenty of these while you were in Philly?"

"Let me explain," He pleaded, staying in the middle of the walkway a couple feet away from me instead of coming up to me. "The day after the funeral, my brothers and I went to a local bar. I had one or two drinks, but that was all. And I was really upset, and Cole offered me a cigarette, and I promise … it was entirely unintentional."

I didn't respond.

After a couple silent seconds, he simpered, "Funny, the way things happen."

"I'm not laughing," I exhaled, my eyes catching a glimpse of something else in his car. Turning back to the interior of the Mercedes, I saw a beer bottle in the backseat. "What's this, then?" I pulled it out and waved it at him.

"That was Cole's …" He tried.

"Stop blaming stuff on your brother, Mason," I could feel tears threatening. "I know it was you. You don't have to hide it from me. And I understand that you're upset about your grandmother, but why go to these lengths?"

Mason's eyes fell to the ground regretfully.

In a sudden instant, he was up in front of me in seconds. He snatched the bottle from my hands and whirled around, throwing it against the gigantic tree in the front lawn. It shattered as soon as it hit the trunk, making me jump.

He turned back on his heel to face me, his eyes burning into mine, "Don't act like I'm the only sinner here."

"S-sinner? What?" I stuttered, confused.

"You can't hide it from me," he spat, his hands clenched into fists. I had never seen him so upset before. "Honestly, what was I supposed to think when Nathaniel just waltzed right out of my house? Seems like I'm not the only one that felt a little insecure and lonely these past couple weeks."

"First of all, since when is this your house? It's mine," I corrected him, and then continuing, I snapped, fuming, "And you know for a fact that I'm insecure and lonely all the time."

"I'm just trying to prove my point, love," He pinched the bridge of his nose. "We both put our faith in something else to fuel us while we were apart."

"Sure, I put my faith in Nathaniel and he's my friend now," I allowed. "But he is nothing more than that. Yet, what you did is so completely different. Drinking and smoking aren't the answer, Mason."

"I know they're not the answer," Mason's anger began to get the best of him. "But what am I supposed to do when I can't find the answer, huh? They're the painkillers … so you can forget all the questions for at least a little while … at least until the morning."

"I just want you to take the route more traveled, for example, the path that _won't_ kill you," I shouted at him. "I've had family that's _died_ from this. I don't want you to …." I couldn't finish. Of course, I didn't want to fight, but what was I supposed to do when all I wanted him to know was that I was always here for him?

"Some things you can't help me with," He countered.

"That's just it," I curled my hands up into fists, enraged. "You don't have to do any of this by yourself! I'm here for you."

"But what if you're not?" He yelled, gripping my forearms. "Being gone made me realize that something was missing. With Madison, everything was perfect. I had the perfect job, I was going to have the perfect family, and everything was _perfect_. Until I lost it all. But with you it's too different. I feel like I have to be with you all the time, and I feel like I have to protect you. And losing you to someone else is not something I ready for, okay?" All the words jumbled together in an angry mess, but I understood a considerable portion, enough to get what he was saying.

I was silent, speechless.

"I already lost one life," He exhaled. "I don't want to lose this one, too."

And it was then that I noticed. His jaw was stiff, his eyes were bloodshot, his lips were pale; and it was all because of something he couldn't admit. He was _sad_, maybe even _afraid_. And he returned to solve that problem, to fix himself back to the confident man that he had been with Madison, that he had been with his family. And, to think, we were only tearing each other even more to shreds.

I smiled slightly, taking his hand in mine and pulling it up in front of my face. I played with his fingers as I spoke, "You're silly."

"Excuse me?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you were smart, but I guess I was mistaken," I shrugged, watching as his expression morphed from heartbreakingly decrepit to amusingly confused.

"Care to elaborate?" He looked down at our intertwined hands.

"You won't lose this life we have together," I promised him. "Because I won't allow it."

"Really?" He chuckled.

"Whether you like it or not," I grinned up at him softly. "I'm all yours and I don't plan on going anywhere."

Mason sighed, smiling contentedly. He stepped forward, pressing himself up against me. His lips gently connected with mine for a few short, heavenly seconds before he exhaled, "I'll hold you to that."


	14. Chapter 13

If light is the opposite of dark, what's the opposite of love?

A candid question, of course, but extremely difficult to answer. Would the opposite of love be hate? Or would it be something more than that? Something scarier? I guess it's all a matter of how you look at it and with what perspective you look at it with. Say, someone who is not or has never been in love tried to answer this question – either they would take a cynical standpoint or spend their whole life painstakingly searching for the truth.

However, someone in love would not need the answer; they would already know. Maybe they would not know the answer directly, but it would instinctively be inside of them, whether they knew it or not.

I feel that I've been able to experience both sides of the situation.

Up until Mason, I'd had no idea what true love actually felt like – but I had written about it excessively in my stories. Each of my characters was trekking through above and beyond to find answers; therefore, being their creator and manager, I was able to encounter everything they had.

Nonetheless, actually being in love was different, incredible.

Each moment with Mason didn't feel like life, it felt like an alternate reality. Sometimes I even questioned if this was still earth, if I was still breathing – most of the moments with him were too dreamlike to actually be true … but, real or not, I loved every single one of them.

I awoke the morning after Mason's arrival to an empty space beside me.

By now, I'd become used to the fact that he was an extremely early-riser. I flipped onto my back, my head turning to the window. Wind was blowing against the glass, the frame creaking quietly – there was some rain, but it was just a calm sprinkle right now.

"Good morning," A voice whispered.

My eyes floated over to the source of the voice to see Mason sitting at my desk in front of his laptop. He had turned to face me, leaning one elbow against the back of his chair and watching me with loving eyes.

"Ready for work, love?" He smiled warmly.

"Work's been closed for the past few weeks," I told him exhaustedly.

"I know. Coop called earlier this morning saying that the office is opening up again today."

"Oh, great," I yawned, pushing back the covers and sitting up.

"Hmm, I'm starting today, too," Mason said, shrugging.

"Really?" I stood, walking over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Maybe now work will be a tiny bit more bearable for me."

"I hope I won't distract you," He chuckled, turning back to his computer.

"I think I can handle it," I walked over to my closet, digging for some clean clothes. Once I found a pair of pants and a shirt, I left my closet and headed for the bathroom.

I was halfway down the hall when Mason left the bedroom and stood idly in the doorway. "Any preferences for breakfast?" He smiled, leaning against the wall.

Turning to him, I shrugged, "Whatever you feel like making."

He started down the stairs, "I should make a menu for you."

"Open up a restaurant," I added sarcastically, strolling into the bathroom.

I had enough time to hop into the shower and wash my hair. Going back to work would feel weird after all this time of doing nothing – it was like my life was starting back up again where it left off when Mason left. I began to wonder what Nathaniel would be doing today. Without me in his daily routine anymore, would he just sit around at home doing nothing?

No, he'd had a life before me, so it should be completely effortless for him to return to that lifestyle. It was strange, I thought as I turned off the water. These past weeks seemed to be like an intermission for everyone; our normal lives had been paused for us to all try out something new.

Honestly, I was glad to be back to normal.

After brushing my teeth, I stood in front of the mirror, my hair dripping into the sink. I could still detect the bags under my eyes, but they were much less predominant than usual. My whole face was still ordinary: colorless and somnolent. However, something seemed different.

It was then that I figured it out.

There were no signs of tearstains or frown lines. Apparently, I'd cried so much recently that to see me back to normal … well, it was no longer normal. For once in a long time, I seemed brighter – it would definitely take some getting used to.

I sighed as I emerged back into the hallway.

It felt good to sigh – it wasn't one of those exasperated sighs that are a result of frustration, or one of those hopeless sighs that make you feel like you're trapped on all sides and make you want to cry. It wasn't like those over exaggerated sighs that just happen to slip out when you feel like you're about to explode. No, it was one of those sighs that make all the muscles in your body contract, one of those unintentional sighs that make you feel completely relaxed.

Like a yoga sigh … only, I didn't have the stamina or physique for yoga.

After shuffling back into the bedroom and swiftly getting ready, I was about to leave the room when I caught a glimpse of Mason's computer screen. On the screen was a picture of a classy, black tuxedo, beneath it a blinking red button said, "Buy Now."

I closed that screen and opened up another – it was self-taught piano lessons. Since grade school, Mason had played the saxophone, but he stopped once he got to high school. I wasn't sure why he would want to teach himself piano. And, of course, another considerable question was why now?

"Breakfast is ready!" Mason's voice called me from downstairs.

"I'll be right down!" I yelled back to him, quickly closing the tab.

I stood, pushing the chair back underneath the desk and then hurrying out the bedroom door. As I made my way down the stairwell, I could hear the sounds of my iPod dock filling up the entire house.

It felt good to have Mason back, to not be alone anymore.

"I made eggs," He told me as I entered the kitchen. "Is that okay?"

"That's fine," I smiled, walking up behind him and burying my face in his back, inhaling.

"What are you doing?" He chuckled quietly.

"What does it look like?" I replied into his sleeve, my voice muffled. "I'm committing you to memory."

He snickered silently, turning off the flame and turning to face me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up against him. Resting his forehead on mine, he exhaled.

"I can't believe it," he murmured into my skin.

"Can't believe w-what?" I stammered, my thoughts scattering at the sound of his pleasurable voice.

"You're all _mine_," He paused for a moment and then laughed, "Mine. It's really a funny concept for me – I finally have something that won't go away."

"I won't," I reassured him.

"Yes, I know," He nodded slightly. "But it's a nice feeling."

"It is," I agreed, shrugging.

His mouth curved up into a smile before he leaned forward and placed his lips on my forehead. When he pulled away, he rested his chin on the top of my head.

"So …?" He sighed.

"Hmm?" I mumbled into his shirt.

"So," Mason said again before continuing, "What did you do while I was gone? Sleep? Eat? Wallow in self-pity?"

I let out a low laugh. "No."

"Spend all your time with Nathaniel?" He guessed, his tone flat.

I didn't answer immediately. "Not all my time."

He pulled away briefly to look at my face, but then he pulled me back in, choosing to let the topic be. Placing his head on top of mine, he asked, "Well, what else did you do?"

"Hmm … I cried a bit more than usual, but that was expected, right?" I mumbled into his chest.

"Expected," Mason replied. "But most definitely not acceptable."

"It could have been worse, you know," I told him, shaking my head.

"True," He agreed with me, laughing under his breath. "You could've gone completely psychotic."

We both grew silent as a soft melody began to float out of the speakers, piano gracefully filling every empty corner of the house. I listened for a moment, not responding to his statement immediately.

"I was close," I admitted. "I mean, to be honest, I did consider a shrink … or at least some form of psychotherapy."

"You considered a _shrink_?"

"Yes, but I had to settle for Coop," I answered with a small laugh.

I peeked underneath Mason's arm to see rain pouring down outside, banging against the window in uneven spurts. My heartbeat fluttered as erratically as the rainwater, beating with no particular rhythm and much too fast; my pulse was pretty much all I could hear – but then again, anything could overwhelm this silence.

"That settles it then," Mason said finally after about six minutes of stillness.

"Settles what?" I wondered, reluctantly pulling away – I had to at least try to read his expression. Was he mad at me? Content? However, when I caught a glimpse of his face, all I got in return was an enigmatic gaze.

"I'm never leaving you again," He verified. "Obviously, separation hit you as hard as it hit me."

I was quiet.

"I'm just glad this psychosis of yours wasn't unending, though," He continued. "Just a phase. And I'm glad you didn't hurt yourself. No murderous thoughts, right?"

"No, no murderous thoughts," I sighed, but then added, "Murderous dreams maybe, but no murderous thoughts."

He seemed hesitant to ask, "How bad were they?"

"To some people, they could be classified as fairly moderate, I guess …." I began, but stopped for a lack of words to express how I felt.

"Moderate as in …" He paused to think. "Moderately horrific?"

"I guess," I allowed.

"And what were they to you?" Mason wondered considerately.

I frowned. "What's the complete opposite of moderate?"

Mason pulled me closer. "I'm sorry I put all of this pain on you. I should have known better than to shove you of all people back into isolation so willingly."

"Me of all people?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, not like this is breaking news to either of us," He shrugged. "But if I recall correctly, you were never one to take heartbreak easily."

I sniffed.

He chuckled silently under his breath. "I still have that scar you gave me."

"What scar?" I backed up and looked at him funny. "I didn't throw anything at you, did I? I don't remember."

"No, you didn't throw anything at me …" He paused. "Wait, have you thrown things at your previous boyfriends?"

"Only one or two of them," I shrugged. When he tossed me a doubtful look, I added quickly, "But both of them lived."

"Let's hope so," Mason smiled, but then his grin faded. "But the scar you gave me wasn't physically there – not like a cut or a bruise. More of a figurative scar, I guess. It was … guilt, mostly."

"Hmm, did you feel bad for me?" I wrapped my arms tighter around him.

"Not at first," He confessed. "Honestly, I was shocked at how well you took the breakup – you acted as if it meant nothing to you. But when you didn't come to school the day after, and then when I saw you in the hallway, you were all puffy and refused to look at me. One of my friends said they saw you bawling in the stairwell." He paused to laugh. "Yeah, that's when I felt the post-breakup guilt. You really had me fooled – I really thought you'd taken it all comparatively well."

"I guess I'm a better actress than you thought," I joked lightly.

I remembered that fateful day, and of course, it was a nightmare for me and for anyone that came too close.

He'd invited me to his house, which was only a short walk away at the time. I recalled it being mid-May, only a week or two before our high school graduation. It was one of those ridiculously sticky, humid days where the sky was pallid and gray. He'd been waiting at the bottom of his driveway by the time I'd reached his house – the breakup had only taken minutes.

Even I was surprised by my unnatural composure.

It didn't hit me until I returned home that he was actually serious, that we were actually done.

"Why did you breakup with me, then?" I asked, just for the sake of knowing.

"Hmm," He let go of me. "I don't really want to answer that."

"And why not?" I sighed, leaning back against the counter.

"I don't want it to …" He stopped for a moment. "I don't want it to ruin anything."

"I won't be mad," I promised. "I'm just curious."

"Well, I …." He paused to think over what he was to say. "I'd just been, you know, thinking. We would have been off at college on opposite sides of the country and long-distance relationships are difficult …." He stopped.

I didn't reply.

"And I noticed something," He continued. "From a girl's perspective, a high school boyfriend means everything. But from a guy's point of view … well, I guess I was just looking to the future instead of focusing on what was going on. I just never thought that I'd find the person that I would want to spend the rest of my life with in high school."

"So," I added everything up. "You were just keeping your options open."

"No, no," He shook his head, placing our plates on the table. "I just … you and I both knew that you weren't a mother figure back then – or a wife, for that matter."

I nodded, agreeing.

Children were never something I was able to tolerate. You would think that, being a girl, it would be my natural instinct to love kids – nonetheless, it just never caught on for me. Sure, they were cute and everything, but when it came to actually playing the part of mother, I didn't make the perfect candidate.

Now? I don't know – I don't know if I'm capable or ready.

"What about now?" I wondered as he walked over the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water.

The statement had been left in the air for so long, it had drifted away – almost forgotten. "Hmm?"

"Am a reasonable mother figure now?" I asked him.

"Uh," he paused, laughing nervously. "Scarlett, I think we can both agree that you hardly know how to take care of yourself, let alone a child."

I took one of the bottles from him, taking a sip. "I guess you're right."

He chuckled, walking back over to the stovetop and picking up the pan. I watched him as he washed it off in the sink, after which, he wiped it down with a rag.

Taking another sip of water, I asked, "What about a wife figure?"

"What?" His blue eyes shot up to me.

After asking the question, I regretted it. We'd been dating for no more than a month – perhaps bringing up marriage wasn't such a good idea, at least not so soon.

"Oh, nothing," I shook my head, chugging down more water to shut me up. "Never mind. You don't have to answer."

He stopped washing the pan and swung the rag over his shoulder, resting his palms on the counter. His eyes gazed out the window for a long while, watching the rain, before he answered again.

"No," he shook his head, turning to look at me. He swallowed before his voice picked up again, "No, this is probably something we should talk about."

"It is?" I raised an eyebrow, placing my water down on the counter.

"My life has gotten much less monotonous with you around," He stated, his hand inching over towards mine – I gave it to him eagerly. "But … after Madison … marriage is just not something I am ready for."

"I understand completely," I reassured him.

Mason's eyes floated to mine, the cobalt hue more electric than usual. My heartbeat fluttered as he gripped my hand tighter – I became daringly lightheaded.

"W-we should get to work," I stammered before I had the chance to faint. I let go of his hand and walked over to the table, picking up the food that we hadn't even touched. I swiftly dumped it into a Tupperware container, saving it for later.

"Right," He turned back to the sink, shaking his head. "Don't want to be late on my first day."

"Are you excited?" I asked, walking into the foyer and grabbing our coats.

"Actually, yeah," He nodded, dropping the rag and following me into the hall. "Coop seems pretty cool, and it will be great working with you. Truth be told, I think I'll have fun with this job."

I handed his jacket to him.

Out of the blue, Mason slowly pulled me forward, kissing me for a moment and then backing away; it was just long enough for all the blood to rush to my head. He turned the door handle, opening the door for me.

"That was pretty random," I shrugged, but I didn't disagree with it.

"I love you," He smiled widely, letting me exit first.

My mind went racing, all my thoughts crashing into each other. I reached out and grabbed his hand so not to topple over. He stared at me with those tender and compassionate eyes, his pale face mystically illuminated by the daylight.

As I watched him, I shook my head.

He was too beautiful to be true, far more beautiful than I remembered from my high school years – picture perfect at all times, never a single hair out of place. I swore, no matter how much I tried, I would never know how I got so lucky.

"Are you alright?" Mason wrapped his arm around my waist, the words exiting his mouth with the utmost care.

"How is that p-possible?" I stuttered, gripping onto his forearm as he helped me down the front steps.

When we reached walkway, he chuckled, "What do you mean?"

"You're too perfect," I sighed, the rain pouring down my face.

So to get out the downpour, Mason helped me to his car. "Oh, love. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

"Maybe," I shrugged. "But, ask anyone, they'll say you are beautiful."

"But I'm not," He opposed, taking me around the hood and opening the passenger door for me.

Once I was settled in, he shut my door.

I watched him walk around the hood, pondering. Perfection was written all over him, there was no denying it – the way he walked, the way he held himself; it was in his face, in his smile, in his eyes, in his _confidence_. There was never a single fault in his skin or single defect in his physique or in his esteem. It was practically impossible for one human being to be so ideal.

However, maybe the answer was in the question.

Mason climbed in the driver's side, starting the car in a flash. After adjusting the heat and fiddling with the radio, he put it in reverse and backed out of the driveway.

I didn't speak until we reached the end of the street. "Are you a vampire?"

His first reaction was to laugh. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it?" I explained myself. "I've never really seen you eat that much before. You never sleep, and if you do, I never see you. You're incredibly pale and your skin is faultless."

He chuckled, "Scarlett, I think if I were a vampire, I would've told you."

"A vampire would never tell," I countered. "A secret too valuable to risk."

"Fine," Mason shook his head, trying to pull off a serious expression but unable to keep from laughing. "You caught me. I'm a vampire."

I raised an eyebrow.

He couldn't help himself. "I'm sorry. This is just too funny – I can't take it. Scarlett, of course, I'm not a vampire, that's ridiculous."

"But it all makes sense, though," I repeated.

"Not necessarily," He denied. "When I don't eat, it means I'm not hungry. And when I had that job in DC, I was only able to sleep three to four hours because of my shift; I'm used to waking up at ungodly hours and going to bed past midnight."

"What about your skin?" I refused to give up.

He held out his hand in front of me. "Feel it. Is that ice cold to you?"

I rubbed his palm, but then was unable to let go. "No."

"Exactly," He nodded. "And, as for my _faultlessness_, I guess it's just luck."

"I wouldn't call it luck," I sighed. "Why do you refuse to be called perfect when you are?"

"No one's perfect," He exhaled. "If anything, you're a bit closer to perfection than I am, without a doubt."

My eyes widened. "How much alcohol did you have while you were gone?"

He laughed, "Not _that_ much. And I'm not intoxicated – I'm telling the truth. You're beautiful."

"That's so cliché," I frowned, gripping his hand and looking forward.

"Maybe so," He allowed, shrugging, but then he continued, "But, for example, you're much smarter than I am. You became friends with Nathaniel and I became friends with … well, nothing I'm proud of. Drinking and smoking was my solution, when all you wanted was someone to trust."

I said nothing.

"And I respect that," He nodded. "I'll have to thank Nathaniel later."

"For what?" I wondered, shocked by his newfound maturity.

"Well, he took care of you when I wasn't here to do so," He explained. "I think he was stronger than me all this time, but I was just afraid to admit it."

I nodded.

"I'm surprised our relationship is still standing," He admitted, and then he added, "You must really love me."

"Oh, I do," I reassured him.

Mason laughed silently, "And all for what …?"

"You're reward enough," I gripped his hand tighter.

We were both quiet for a moment, not for lack of things to say but yet for the lack of need to say anything at all. Mason turned the wheel, pulling into the hospital's lot. He put it in park, but didn't get out of the car just yet.

"So," He turned to face me, a certain placidness to his expression. "While I was in Philadelphia, I was able to get all of my holiday shopping done."

"Ugh," I exhaled. "You don't have to do anything for me for Christmas."

"It's a little late for that, love," He chuckled, his thumb gently caressing the back of my hand. "I think I pretty much looted the entire department store and then some."

"I don't want gifts," I told him.

"C'mon," He grinned. "I think you'll like some of the things I got you – maybe even, if I'm lucky, you'll like _everything_ I got you."

"How much is everything?" I frowned.

"Not much compared to what I could've done," He confessed.

"You didn't buy me a house or anything eccentric like that," I hoped.

"Of course not," He shook his head, but then he stopped, looking at me questioningly, "Why? Do you want one?"

"No," I responded immediately. "But … Mason, you don't have to do this."

"But I want to," His marvelous eyes remained on me at all times. "I believe it is my job as a boyfriend to give you everything you deserve."

"Oh, so being my boyfriend is a job now?" I giggled quietly.

"I don't know," He shrugged, eyeing me lovingly. "The pay is pretty good."

I hit him on the arm playfully as he laughed.

"Just promise me this," he smiled as he pulled the key out of the ignition. "You'll be able to grin and bear it this holiday, whether it's the best Christmas of your life or the worst."

"I promise I'll be good," I vowed.

He smiled before getting out of the car and making his way around the hood. I didn't wait for him to open the door for me, with the mindset that he already did enough for me, and began to make my way to the front entrance. He followed, keeping a steady pace beside me as we entered the two double doors.

As soon as we walked in, I noticed Krista at the front desk – I didn't think she would make it in today, what with Asher's case and everything.

"Scarlett," She simpered at me apologetically. "I'm so sorry about yesterday. It was so rude of me to just accuse you of all those things."

"It's fine, Krista," I forgave her willingly. "I know you're just upset and that's perfectly okay."

"You have no idea how much that means to me," She exhaled. "I thought you would never forgive me."

"It's fine, really," I smiled.

She nodded, just then noticing Mason for the first time.

I'd forgotten she didn't know about him yet, and honestly, I wasn't sure how she would take it. Would she be annoyed that I didn't tell her? Or would she be happy for me? I waited for her reaction with bated breath.

"You must be that new doctor," She spoke after a few silent moments.

"Yes," Mason extended his hand politely. "Dr. Mason Ryder."

"Right, right," She shook his hand. "You came from DC. That's right."

"Well, Forks is where I think I should be," He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "It's got a lot more to offer than I expected." He glanced down at me.

Krista smiled, looking at me to with wide eyes. "Well, I hope you like it here. I know Scarlett will."

He laughed, smirking, "I don't really go for the insecure, rambling type."

I rolled my eyes. "Better get up there before Coop murders us both."

"Oh, by the way," Krista smiled as we began to make our way to the elevator. "I ran into Robyn at the supermarket last night and we got talking – looks like you've really made your way into the tight Quileute tribe."

"What do you mean?" I glanced up at Mason's uncertain expression.

"All of them seemed to have really taken a liking to you," She grinned widely. "Robyn even said she's never seen Nathaniel happier. I hope you two hit it off – you'd make such a cute couple."

I glanced at Mason who was now staring at the tile floor with a distant look.

"Uh, maybe," I stuttered, jumping onto the elevator as soon as it slid open. "See you later, Krista." Mason got on the elevator sluggishly behind me.

As soon as the doors slid closed, I exhaled, "Wow. That was awkward."

"You're telling me," Mason's eyes remained locked on the floor.

"Sorry," I apologized, stepping towards him and boxing his hand in mine.

"Are you in love with him?" He asked straightforwardly.

"N-no! Mason, you know that I don't a-and what Krista said doesn't mean anything. That's just her opinion." All the words collided together.

"It's gotten to the point where even complete strangers know," He said.

"She's not a complete stranger," I shook my head. "She's my friend."

"Well, does your friend know who _I_ am?" His eyes shot up to me. "I had to introduce myself to her. But it seems like she knows Nathaniel really well."

"Krista knew Nathaniel when he was younger," I told him.

"That doesn't mean anything, Scarlett," Mason frowned. "She said you'd make a cute couple."

"So …?" I leaned against the elevator wall.

The bell chimed, acting like the off switch to our conversation almost. Mason glanced at me before the doors slid open. "We'll talk about this later."

We both painted composed expressions on our faces as if nothing was wrong as we stepped out of the elevator, Coop noticing us almost immediately.

"Great, you're here," Coop smiled widely, flipping through a file on the counter. He pulled out the paper he wanted and approached us.

"I'll check on Walker, Matt," a nurse told Coop as she hurried down to the end of the hallway.

"Alright," He sighed without looking at her, the majority of his attention remaining on us. "So, Doctor, are you ready for your first assignment?"

"Depends," Mason shrugged as I walked around the counter and sat down in my chair. "What is it?"

"It's morbid, it's depressing," Coop listed, leading Mason towards the hall. "It's perfect for your first day on the job."

"Sounds excellent," Mason sighed sarcastically, and then he turned to look at me, "I'll talk to you later."

"Okay," I allowed, watching them as they made their way down the hall.

I knew Mason was upset, and he had every right to be. He probably felt so frustrated with me – I mean, after all, how good can you feel when you hear someone say your girlfriend would make a perfect pair with someone else?

He'd missed a lot in his absence, so it only made sense that he'd fill in the blanks with his own assumptions. I decided that I should have told him last night about everything that happened while he was gone – it was the right thing to do. So tonight, I would tell him everything … well, everything except for the kiss.

I would never be able to tell Mason that, ever.

It would forever be a moment that only Nathaniel and I knew about, and that was that. I wouldn't tell anyone, and I would have to convince Nathaniel not to tell anyone, either.

Shaking my head, I decided to get my mind off that subject.

After opening up my computer and reviving it from its vacation, I turned to one of the file cabinets behind me and began to rustle through the records. I pulled out several manila folders that I would need to enter into the computer.

Making me jolt, a mechanical beep came from the computer.

I had several new e-mails, all saying the same exact thing … and all from Asher. They read:

Dear Scarlett,

I feel like you are the only one I can talk to right now. I just wanted to let you know that I'm okay and so is Gabrielle.

We started south, stopping in Oregon. But a public notice was sent out looking for us so we had to run east. According to the notice, they say I'm a kidnapper and a criminal. I haven't stolen anything, I promise. We've been staying in motels for the most part.

I can't tell you where I am right now, mainly because I'm scared this message will be intercepted. I'll tell you this, though: we're not in the country anymore. I miss everyone … and don't tell my mother what's happened.

-Asher

P.S. – I'm using the computer at a lodge right now. Don't respond to this message.

My mind froze over.

Asher _left_ _the_ _country_? I thought he'd been afraid before, but now he must be terrified. There was no way he would be able to return to Forks now, or else he'd be arrested for sure.

I wanted to run down to Krista and tell her – because now it had gotten to the point where I could be charged for keeping valuable information from the police. Nonetheless, I knew that, for some insane reason, Asher trusted me.

The least I could do is trust him back.

I deleted each of the messages from Asher, erasing them from my e-mail's memory completely. Of course, I wanted to respond to them, to see how he was doing; but if it risked his safety, I wasn't quite sure what to do.

To get my mind off things, I let the next few hours glide by with – thankfully – monotonous formalities. I opened each briefly, checking to see if a date and signature had been reported on the paperwork. When I got to the last folder, I noticed there was a neither a date nor a signature on it.

Opening it wider, I noticed it was Gabrielle's ultrasound.

"Tomorrow sounds great," Coop's voice echoed from down the hall.

I hurriedly shut the folder, stuffing into the back of a random drawer. Coop walked up as soon as I locked the file cabinet drawer shut.

"Yeah, I would love to catch up with you," Coop spoke clearly into his cellphone. "Okay, I'll see you, then. I love you, too."

I raised an eyebrow as he shut his phone. "Was that an 'I love you' I heard?"

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" He chuckled, dropping his phone in his pocket.

"Finally find the perfect girl?" I wondered curiously.

"No," He shook his head, leaning against the counter. "Just the girl I've been looking for."

"What do you mean?" I stood from my chair, trying to read his expression.

"I finally found her," Coop had an atypical sympathetic tint in his eyes. "Do you remember, a couple weeks ago, that picture you found in my office?"  
>"Yeah, the one where you were eating ice cream with that girl," I recalled.<p>

"That wasn't a girlfriend or anything," He sighed. "It was my sister."

"I didn't know you had a sister," I watched him carefully. "You hardly ever talk about your family."

He seemed momentarily depressed by my statement, realizing that it was unfortunately true. "Hmm, well, Anna and I aren't on the best terms. I haven't seen her or spoken to her since … gosh, it had to be at least since I started medical school. We got in one big fight and we just hated each other ever since."

I didn't respond, I just listened.

"She had, um, a boyfriend," Coop explained, with some difficulty. "I found out that he was cheating on her, and I tried to tell her … but she wouldn't hear it. I left for medical school the night after we had that fight and I expelled her from my head completely …."

He paused.

"Until you found that picture," He chuckled under his breath, looking down at the floor. "I remembered how close we were – we were more like best friends than we were siblings."

"So, you decided to call her?" I was happy for him.

"Yeah," He nodded. "It was pretty sad actually. I had to call my parents to get my own sister's number. She has three kids now …. I'm an uncle and I didn't even know it."

"That's really great, Coop," I grinned.

"She lives in New Mexico," He told me. "And she's coming up to visit."

"Are you nervous?" I bit my lip.

"Well, yeah," He laughed. "What if she's still mad at me? … She didn't seem mad at me on the phone, but she's always been good at hiding her feelings."

"Just think. A huge burden will be lifted off your shoulders once you see her again."

"I hope so …" He exhaled, his eyes falling to the floor.

"I've never seen you like this before," I pushed my hair behind my ear. "For the first time ever, the famed Cooper confidence meter is empty."

He laughed, "I must be spending too much of my time with you – your schmaltziness is rubbing off. It's disgusting."

I giggled, sitting back down.

"Hey, Coop," Mason approached us. "You're on death duty."

"My turn?" Coop pushed off the counter. "Oh, joy."

"What's death duty?" I wondered curiously – so Mason and Coop were already close enough to have their own inside jokes?

"Can you hand me the Thompson file?" Coop asked me.

"Thompson Sr. recently suffered a heart attack," Mason explained as I shuffled through the file cabinet and pulled out the folder Coop needed. "But, by the way his family is acting, you'd think the guy fell off a cliff."

"Possibly the most depressing family on the face of the planet," Coop took the file off the counter and began to walk down the hall. However, he stopped short, turning on his heel to look at Mason. "You have five minutes, Ryder. No more than that."

"Only five?" I whined, standing from my chair again.

"Oh, well," Mason leaned against the counter. "That's just enough time for me to hook up with the receptionist." He chuckled, winking at me.

"Shut up," I giggled, pushing his arm off the counter and rolling my eyes.

We could hear Coop laughing as he walked down the hall and out of sight.

"So, how are you liking it here?" I wondered, smiling widely at him.

"It's great," He replied. "One of the benefits to living in a small town, I've learned, is that you know everybody."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Sure beats living somewhere big and sunny, huh?"

"I don't know about that," Mason sighed, leaning forward over the counter and placing a soft kiss on my lips. "Are you sure you don't want to move?"

I shook my head as he pulled away. "No way."

"Alright then," He shrugged. "But I hope you realize, I'll keep asking until you give in."

"Then be prepared to keep asking for the rest of your life," I exhaled, smiling. "Because I don't plan on leaving."

He nodded, "I thought that much."

I simply grinned in reply.

"Hey, I want to apologize about this morning," He sighed. "I just got kind of … temperamental."

"Temperamental?" I raised an eyebrow. "I think you mean jealous."

"I'm a lot of things," Mason leaned both elbows against the counter. "But jealous is certainly not one of them. Besides, why would I be jealous of _Nathaniel_?"

"Because my friend said that we'd make an _amazing_ couple," I laughed.

"If I remember correctly, she used the word 'cute'," He smirked, a playful look in his eyes. "She never said the word 'amazing'."

I laughed quietly under my breath. "You know, Nathaniel's great. I think you two would make really good friends."

"Scarlett, I think Nathaniel and I are …" He exhaled before continuing, "Let's just say we're a little far away from the friend stage right now."

"Then what stage are you at?" I exhaled.

"The 'going at each other's throats' stage," He answered, simpering.

"I understand," I shrugged. "But I don't want you going at each other's throats forever."

He grinned, nodding, "Alright."

I leaned forward, looking into Mason's blue eyes longingly. I wasn't quite sure what I was looking for, but I just wanted confirmation. To know that he really did want to keep his promises.

As if he'd read my mind, he leaned closer, kissing me. "I'll try to make things work."

"I hope so," I sighed as he took my hand in his.

"How about this?" He grinned, looking down at our intertwined hands. "To get your mind off everything, why don't we have a date tonight?"

"A date?" I exhaled, curious. "I thought that after you reach the age of twenty-five, you don't call them dates anymore."

"Then what are they called?" He smirked.

"Well," I shrugged. "I'm not very social, so I wouldn't know."

"Well, for tonight, let's pretend we're seventeen again," He chuckled. "Is it valid to call it a date then?"

"I guess," I sighed.

"It's settled, then," He clarified, gripping my hand tighter. "We can just hang around at home, I'll make something special for dinner and we can watch a movie."

"And by movie, I hope you mean _Twilight_," I laughed.

"Oh, of course," He grinned. "It wouldn't be a date without some romantic vampires and werewolves, right?"

I nodded, smiling.

"Ryder," Coop's voice called from down the hall. "Time's up."

"Right," Mason leaned forward, pecking my lips briefly. "Forgot life still existed for a second there."

"Yeah, well," I shrugged. "Reality can do that to you."

He began to walk away. "Just think – tonight is our break from reality. Just look forward to that."

I nodded as he turned the corner. "I will."


	15. Chapter 13, pt 2

The day was long and tiring – it felt good to go home.

Mason and I clocked out around five and were home no more than five minutes later. He retreated immediately to kitchen and I went to the living room, both of us settling down and doing what we do best – Mason, cooking and me, reading away.

I was cuddled up with _Romeo & Juliet_.

Acoustic guitar sang from my iPod dock's speakers, floating throughout the house. The sound of pounding rain blended with the music well, I must admit. It truly felt like a typical, brilliant night in Forks – and these were the kind of days that made me love it here, to make me never want to leave.

I could tell that Mason was beginning to feel the same.

He appreciated this marvelous rainy day as much as I did, humming along to the music without a single hint of anxiety to voice.

I read into Act II, but I hadn't yet reached Scene III when Mason walked in.

"Hey, dinner's almost ready," He sighed, leaning against the wall.

"Okay," I looked up from book. "I'll be there in a second. Let me just finish this scene."

"What are you reading?" He wondered, walking up and picking the book up from my grasp. "Ah, _Romeo & Juliet_. We read this freshman year, right?"

"Uh-huh," I nodded. "It sure is beautiful, isn't it?"

"I didn't like it all that much," He confessed, handing it back to me.

"How could you not like _Romeo & Juliet_?" My eyes widened. "It is a classic."

"That's subjective," He sat down beside me and I put my legs across his lap. "Romeo's just idiotic, I think, and Juliet, too. They knew each other for two minutes and then suddenly decided to get married. What part are you at?"

"When Romeo goes to Juliet's house for the first time," I told him.

"I don't have that amazing a memory," Mason laughed, taking the book from me again.

I quoted my favorite part from memory, "Therefore pardon me, and not impute this yielding to light love, which the dark night hath so discovered."

Mason found where I was reciting and read Romeo's next line, "Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow, that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops."

"Oh, swear not by the moon," I continued as Mason watched me. "The inconsistent moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable."

"What shall I swear by?" Mason glanced at the book, then back at me.

"Do not swear at all," I brought my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arm around them. "Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of idolatry, and I'll believe thee."

He laughed, obviously impressed. "How do you know all this by heart?"

"Although I joy in thee," I sustained. "I have no joy of this contract tonight. It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; too like lightening, which doth cease to be …"

He interrupted by placing his lips on mine unexpectedly.

The kiss was unrelenting, he didn't hold back at all and neither did I; he pulled his hand up and held the back of my head, his fingers locking up and tangling in my hair. Finally, we both had to pull away – in order to breathe.

Mason exhaled deeply before replying, "Oh, wilt thou leave me unsatisfied?"

I bit my lip, "What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?"

He looked down at the book, checking for his next line, but as soon as he read it, he tossed the book down onto the coffee table and stood. "I think I smell our dinner burning." He rushed into the kitchen.

I checked the book, wondering what had made him so uncomfortable. The next line read, "_The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine_." Ergo, Romeo was asking Juliet to marry him. Had Mason taken this so seriously that he felt he was actually asking me?

Exhaling, I stood, slowly walking into the kitchen.

Mason stood at the stovetop, back turned to me, tending to a steak that he had just pulled out of the oven.

"And yet I wish but for the thing I have," I leaned in the doorway.

At the sound of my voice, he turned to me.

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea," I smiled warmly. "My love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite."

He looked down at the floor. "Romeo doesn't know his lines."

"Romeo is supposed to say," I grinned, closing my eyes, the words falling off my lips as cleanly as if I were reading them from the book. "O blessed, blessed night. I am afeard, being in night, all this is but a dream, too flattering sweet to be substantial."

Mason slowly approached me, reaching out and wrapping his arm around my waist. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

I laughed under my breath.

"Can you get the potatoes out of the oven?" Mason asked, letting go and walking back to the steaks. "Then we can start the movie."

"Alright," I grabbed an oven mitt from the drawer.

I figured later that you know you are in the perfect kind of relationship when a transition from one conversation – of romance – to another – of rescuing dinner from being burnt to a crisp – is so effortless that you hardly even notice that the subject has been changed.

"So, which one are we watching tonight?" he smirked.

"Well, with all this _Romeo & Juliet_ on my brain," I walked over to the oven and pulled out the baked potatoes. "I would say this is a _New Moon_ night."

"What does _New Moon_ have to do with _Romeo & Juliet_?" He wondered.

"It's a relatively prominent part of the storyline," I explained. "But I think I'm just in the mood for some shirtless werewolves."

"I can't wait," He joked, grabbing some plates from the cabinet.

As Mason carried the plates into the living room, I grabbed two Coca-Colas from the refrigerator and turned to get the silverware from the drawer by the sink. I was about to head for the living room when I noticed something outside.

The trees were blowing malevolently as the sky drifted from light gray to a dark, ominous blue-black. Light poured out onto the wet grass from the kitchen, illuminating just the edge of the woodlands. At the perimeter of the abyss, I could make out two tawny eyes.

It was the wolf.

Its dark coat rustled in the passing wind, its four paws spread apart in a guarded stance. I could feel my pulse hasten, the blood pulsing underneath my skin. The wolf didn't move forward and it didn't retreat – it stood its ground, watching me with expectant eyes, to see how I would react.

My common sense hit me hard, my voice stuttering back to life. "M-Mason!"

At the sound of my voice, the wolf jumped back into the obscurity, totally out of view. Mason rushed in a second too late.

"What's the matter? Are you alright?" He reached out for me instinctively.

"I-it was back," I shook my head, bumbling again. I stumbled out to the foyer, tripping over my own feet as I went. "I have to go tell him."

"What was back? Tell who?" Mason pulled me back to him, gripping my wrists tightly. "Are you alright?"

"No," I shook my head, twisting out of his hold and grabbing my jacket. "The wolf came back again. I have to go tell Nathaniel. The pack is getting closer …"

"I don't think so," Mason interrupted. "You're not going anywhere until you regain some clarity. Besides, I don't want you going outside if there's a wolf rampaging around."

"I have to tell Nathaniel," I repeated myself.

"Why?" Mason sighed, confused. "Why does _he_ have to know?"

"Because he's a cop," I explained. "And he told me to let him know if anything like this should happen, and it's happened. So I have to go tell him."

I began to open the door but Mason closed it shut.

"Let me out, Mason," I begged, grabbing my car keys off the hook. "I have to talk to him anyway – to make things up to him after last night."

"I'm not letting you outside," He refused.

"Just let me go," I frowned, opening the door. This time he didn't protest. "I promise I'll be back in an hour or less."

"Well … what about our date night?" He asked as I stepped out onto the porch. "I thought we were going to hang out, just the two of us."

"I have to tell him the pack is getting closer to town," I exhaled.

"Right," He nodded, holding the door open for me as I exited onto the porch. He watched as I carefully made my way down the steps.

"Thank you," I turned back to him once I reached the walkway.

"Say hi to Nathaniel for me," He exhaled, slamming the door shut after that final statement.

* * *

><p>I drove carefully on the slick roads.<p>

After thirty minutes of driving, I crossed the La Push borderline – it had taken much longer than I had thought it would. I turned down Robyn and Adam's private drive, my car shifting its weight as I made the transition from pavement to gravel. As I made my way down the dark driveway, I thought guiltily to myself.

Poor Mason.

If my moodiness hadn't gotten to him before, I bet he hated me for it now. One minute we were kissing and happy, and the next I was hysteric, saying that if I didn't go to the one person Mason despised, it would be the end of the world.

I wouldn't be surprised if I got home and Mason was gone.

I was so unpredictable – it only made sense that someone, even if they'd decided they loved me, would want to leave me instantaneously. I was too indecisive, and I'd never really been capable of deciding what was good for me, let alone what I wanted.

Pulling up to Robyn and Adam's house, I began to rethink my motives.

Maybe coming to see Nathaniel right now wasn't such a good idea, whether I'd seen the wolf or not. I was about to turn around when Robyn stepped out the front door and onto the porch.

"Scarlett!" She smiled, waving.

Ugh, now I could not escape. I'd been spotted. "Hi, Robyn."

I pulled the key out of my ignition, jumping out into the remains of the downpour from earlier – now it was just a slight drizzle.

"It seems like forever since I last saw you," She greeted me with a hug once I reached the porch. "Why couldn't you come to visit today?"

"I had to work," I told her, stepping into her warm home.

Immediately, Hawk ran up to me, jumping around my legs and licking my hand. I bent to pet him.

"That was everyone's excuse," She exhaled. "What ever happened to Christmas vacation, you know? Christmas is next week for goodness sake."

Robyn walked around the counter to get something out of one of her kitchen cabinets. I let my eyes wander throughout the room, catching sight of a long box sitting on the sectional.

"What's that box?" I pointed to it.

"Oh, ornaments," She exhaled. "We have a little tradition where all of our friends come over and we decorate the tree together. I think it's only fitting that you're allowed in this holiday."

"I feel so lucky," I joked.

"Yeah," Robyn laughed, her eyes wide with excitement. "We're going up to Port Angeles to pick up a freshly cut tree tomorrow, if Adam can take off work."

"That sounds like a lot of fun," I grinned, turning back to her.

"So, I can only guess you didn't stop by to see me, right?" She grinned as I sat down at the kitchen table. "The guys just went to pick up some Thai food. They should be back any minute now."

"Okay," I sighed. "I just need to talk to Nathaniel. It won't take long."

"That's fine," She grinned. "You know, I just thought I should tell you. I've never seen Nate like this before – he's been so happy since you came along."

I shook my head. "Please, don't say that."

"Why not?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I …" I paused to think over what I was going to say. "You know that fight you had with Adam?" When she nodded reluctantly, I continued, "Well, sometimes all it takes is a slip of the tongue or an error in judgment to screw everything up, you know?"

"I know," She nodded, biting her lip. "I know better than you think."

"What do you mean?" I sat up straighter, Robyn sitting down beside me.

"You are my friend now. I can trust you, right?" She inquired.

"Of course, Robyn," I nodded.

"That fight Adam and I had," She explained to me. "Was triggered by one name – a name that we'd sworn never to say or think of again, and a name that I was stupid enough to bring up."

"Seth," I recalled, but then raising an eyebrow, "What about it, though?"

"Believe it or not," She continued. "Adam and I didn't really click in the beginning. It wasn't like love at first sight, or anything along those lines, for that matter. He actually hated me."

"Adam? That's who you're talking about?" I couldn't believe it. "You guys are like _the_ bulletproof couple …. You're Adam and Robyn."

She laughed. "Yeah, well, we weren't back then. I was a junior in high school and he was a junior down at the community college. I had the biggest crush on him in the history of insane crushes – actually, I think you could classify me as a stalker."

I laughed under my breath.

"But he had a girlfriend," She sighed. "Possibly the prettiest girl on the Rez – she was tall and tan, like those celebrities you see on the cover of magazines. And it was hard for me to watch them, you know? You have a crush that doesn't know you exist, and you see them with someone else … you just have the urge to choke on your spit."

"That's a good way of putting it," I chuckled.

"Uh-huh," She rested her elbow on the table and put her chin in her hand. "So one night, I was walking down the beach – I remember the moment so clearly – and I saw him sitting there, alone. I went up and talked to him for what must've been hours. His girlfriend broke up with him … and I didn't know how that was possible. I mean, who would want to break up with Adam Moore? It was unheard of."

I didn't say anything.

"So that night, he took me back to his house," Robyn stared down at the table. "And we … you know."

I nodded.

"And then the next day, he said he didn't want to see me ever again," She sighed. "It was hard, because I really thought we'd had something. But, then again, it was easier than it could've been – at least we didn't go to school together, or that would've been a nightmare to pass each other in the halls and exchange awkward glances.

"A couple months later," She continued. "I got really sick – barfing in my toilet and spending all day curled up in bed. It wasn't until I realized I wasn't having my period that I discovered … there was another person inside me."

"You were pregnant," I exhaled, incredulous.

"I told Nate first," She played with her hands nervously. "He actually offered to be the father – or at least the father for all intensive purposes – if Adam refused to acknowledge the baby."

"Hmm," I stared forward mechanically. "That's really responsible of him."

"Nate's always been that way," She exhaled, interlocking her hands together. "But so has Adam. They both have that quality of wanting to take charge and finish what they started. Adam was surprisingly very happy about it all – the day after I told him, he purposed to me."

"That's so sweet," I bubbled.

"It was," Robyn giggled. "I hadn't known it before, but Adam was quite the hopeless romantic – bringing a rose home for me everyday and singing me to sleep, and he is most definitely not the best musician in the world." She laughed, but her smile quickly faded. "Oh and how he wanted that baby. He came up with the names – if it was girl, it was going to be Michelle Elizabeth, Mickey for short."

I grinned.

She didn't smile; she locked her gaze on the hardwood floors. "And if it was a boy, it was going to be Seth Thomas."

"And …?" I was clung onto her story.

"And it was a boy," She smiled slightly, but then the grin fell. "At least that's what the ultrasound said. I had … I had a miscarriage – Adam was distraught and I hated seeing him that way. I'd thought that, with the baby gone, he would no longer have a reason to love me; I thought the wedding would be canceled and I thought he would leave."

She paused.

"But he didn't," She stared out the window automatically. "We went with the wedding, and we both began to realize we meant more to each other than either of us ever imagined. Over time, we became … the _bulletproof_ couple."

"I'm so sorry," I exhaled. "About the baby, I mean."

"It's okay," She frowned, glancing over at the wall facing opposite us. "… The worst of it is that it's one of those things that's impossible to get over. Yeah, sure, of course it's going to be hard because it's a life that you were preparing for and then, all of a sudden, it's gone …. But we could have been better now if we hadn't been so careless in the beginning, if we'd lamented the _right_ way – you know, taking care of ourselves ….

"Instead, we just threw all the baby stuff away and went on a sadness binge."

There was silence between us for a moment.

"I think Seth would be disappointed in us," She shook her head, standing. "The least we could do is organize a proper memorial for him, but no … we decided to completely isolate his memory, forget about him entirely."

"You shouldn't feel guilty," I exhaled as tears began to gently fall down her cheeks. "Seth is probably looking down on you right now, proud. He knows that he would've had the most amazing parents in the world."

"Don't flatter me," She looked down at the floor.

"I'm not," I grinned. Her eyes returned to my face. "I'm just stating fact."

Robyn pulled me into a hug then, letting the tears fall down her face no holds bared. I stayed supportive, trying my best not to pull away – I was one of those people that pulled out a hug too early, or perhaps too late.

At the sound of a car door slamming, Robyn pulled away, standing.

"I can't let Adam see me crying," She walked over to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottled water. "And I most definitely can not tell him what I was crying about."

"Relax, I …" I began, but I was interrupted by Shane.

"Well, look who it is!" His voice boomed, echoing throughout the house.

"Hey, Shane," I smiled. He wrapped me in a one armed hug, setting a bag of food down on the kitchen table.

"Welcome back," Tommy winked at me as he walked in, helping Justin unload the bags of food.

All of the Quileutes waltzed through the front door, greeting me with wide smiles and bright faces. Nathaniel was the last to enter, but his familiar grin was gone in a flash once he took notice of me.

"What are you doing here?"

Not even a 'hello.' Not even a smile.

"I came to talk to you," I stepped forward, thinking he would give me his usual bear hug, but when he didn't, I backed away. "I saw the wolf in my backyard."

"Oh, so this is strictly business?" He frowned, his tone razor sharp. "I would've thought you were coming to apologize. My mistake."

"I-I came to say that, too," I stuttered nervously.

"By the way, I meant to ask this earlier," He shrugged, his hands balling into fists. "How was Mason's trip? I'm guessing you really rolled out the welcome wagon in honor of his return."

"Nathaniel, don't be like this," I shook my head. "At least not here …"

"Why not here?" Nathaniel's voice rose. He looked around me at his friends – all of them were staring at us with confused looks. "These are my friends and if you are going to say it to me, then you can say it to them, too."

"I'm sorry, okay?" I frowned, my fingers stiffening, embarrassed.

"Sorry is not going to cut it this time," He frowned, bending down to my level. "And neither is 'I'm sorry if I offended you'."

"I'm trying to make this work," I exhaled, becoming frustrated now.

"Trying to make what work?" He stared at me with fury in his eyes.

"Us," I replied, staring down at the floor. "Mason doesn't like it either. He doesn't want me to be your friend. Do you know how hard I had to try to make him let me come down here? I just want you … I want you to trust me."

"I can't anymore," He glowered, watching me with inconsolable eyes.

"Then I can't be your friend anymore," I shook my head, walking around him and heading out the front door.

I had my hand on my car by the time he was out the door, running after me. "Scarlett, I just can't let him have you. It's not like Mason and I can just split you, half and half … you've got to make a choice."

"Oh, a choice?" I swung open my door. "Alright, then, I choose Mason."

"W-wait … what?" He frowned as I climbed in.

"You heard what I said," I slammed the door shut, starting the engine and turning around.

I began to zoom down the gravel drive.

About halfway down the driveway, I caught a glimpse of Nathaniel in my rearview mirror. He was running after my truck, trying to catch up to it; he was fast, but my truck was fortunately faster. Once I reached asphalt, I sped up to fifty miles per hour, my truck groaning in protest.

Nathaniel gave up then, stopping in the middle of the road. I watched him in the mirror, watching as he got smaller and smaller until he was just a speck, too far away to render an actual person.

Tears began to fall down my face.

Even though Nathaniel had asked me to make a choice and I'd answered, I knew that I hadn't officially decided yet. Today was not my judgment day, and I could feel that inside of me; there was no way that now was the time to choose.

That day was yet to come, and I was not looking forward to it.


	16. Chapter 14

I returned home much later than planned.

Halfway home, I slowed down to about fifteen miles an hour, extending my trip to about an hour and a half longer than necessary. Part of me wanted to go home, of course, to see Mason and to have him hold me in his arms. But the sensible part of me wanted to give Mason space; the sensible part knew it was more productive to cower into the fetal position in a corner than to expect the affection I so painfully craved.

I held my breath, idly hanging between La Push and Forks until the clock on my dashboard clicked to 11:00 PM.

Pulling into the driveway, I looked up at my big house, noticing that none of the lights were on inside, with the exception of the outside porch light. Much to my sudden relief, Mason's Mercedes was parked exactly where it was when I'd left. Honestly, I had been afraid Mason would've have left me, fed up with my capriciousness.

The fact he stayed gave me some hope. A crazy hope, but hope, nonetheless.

I cut off the ignition, climbing out of my cab and slowly shuffling down the walk to the front door. The clouds had parted slightly, ghostly moonlight pouring down on me with light like daytime. Once I reached the front door, I didn't open it at first – I stood there, staring out at the woods across the street as if I expected to see an answer standing there.

After a minute or so, I pushed open the unlocked door, closing it gently behind me.

The house was silent, shuddering with the passing wind. I carefully made my way up the stairs, noticing that my bedroom door was ajar and a subtle white glow was pouring out onto the hardwood floor.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, I exhaled, wondering if Mason would be mad at me or not; he should have reason to be, after all. My hand held onto the banister tightly as I made my way down the hallway.

Mason was sitting at the desk, typing away on his laptop.

I considered speaking, but I decided against it. He must've known I was here – the roar of my truck was without a doubt a dead giveaway.

"What did Nathaniel say?" His voice was rough.

"It's not like it matters," I mumbled, my voice no more than a whisper.

He stood from the chair, approaching me slowly. It was too dark to see his face clearly, but his blue eyes stood out. He leaned in the doorway, only mere inches away from me.

"I'm stupid," I exhaled.

"Yes, you are," He agreed.

"I'm also sorry," I frowned.

"You should be," He established.

"I didn't mean to ruin our date night," I apologized, pulling the sleeves of my jacket over my hands. "Believe me, I wanted more than anything to be seventeen again and watch _New Moon_ with you."

"But …?" He waited for me to explain.

"But I just felt uncertain," I responded, studying his expression carefully. "That wolf has been haunting me, and I couldn't help but feel asphyxiated."

"And Nathaniel could help you?" A clever smile crossed his face.

"I think all I really wanted was his gun," I spoke mainly to myself. "At least then I could shoot the beast myself."

"That's animal cruelty," He chuckled under his breath.

"Yes, well," I shrugged, sighing. "Now I feel like shooting Nathaniel."

"That, I'll allow," He lifted his hand, wiping the remainder of my tears away with his thumb.

I stepped around Mason and into the bedroom, taking off my jacket.

"I had to throw away dinner," He exhaled, turning to face me. "I made the mistake of leaving it out waiting for you too long; it's unsalvageable now."

"I'm sorry … again," I looked over at him.

"It's alright," He walked over to his laptop and closed it.

"I'm a bad girlfriend, aren't I?" I assumed, sitting down on the bed.

"Now what on earth would make you say such a thing?" He leaned against the desk. Leaning over, he flipped on the small lamp that sat on my dresser.

"Evidence proves," I shrugged. "I'm distant, I'm helpless …."

When I didn't continue, he laughed, "What am I going to do with you?"

I smiled, looking down at my hands, "Lock me away. At least that way, I won't be able to do anything dim-witted."

"Not a bad idea," He nodded, grinning.

"I'm glad you came along," I told him, my eyes retreating to the window. "Without you, I probably would've gone eccentric waiting for Lilli."

"You may still go eccentric whether I'm here with you or not," He said.

"More or less," I shrugged. "But you're my motivation to stay sane."

His eyes locked on mine for a moment, trying to read me as if I were an open book. After a couple silent moments though, his gaze followed mine to the window, watching the steady drops hit the window gently and the drip down onto the windowsill.

"You should get to bed," he looked back at me solicitously. "It's late."

"I doubt I'll be able to sleep well," I predicted.

Mason stepped into my closet for a moment and then stepped back out, tossing some pajama pants in my direction. "Why not?"

"You won't be sleeping next to me," I replied. "You never are."

"I don't sleep," He teased. "Because I'm a vampire, remember?"

I remained silent, my eyes on him until he couldn't stand my stare anymore.

"Fine," He sighed. "I'll lay with you until you fall asleep."

"You don't have a ridiculously early shift anymore, Mason," I reminded him as he turned out the light on my dresser. "Why don't you just go to bed for once?"

"I just can't," He shrugged, walking over to my bedside and sitting at my feet. "My mental alarm clock won't allow it."

I accepted the excuse reluctantly, getting underneath the covers.

Mason lay down beside me, putting his arm underneath the nape of my neck and leaning up against me. I rested my head against his chest, pressing my body up against him from inside the covers. I couldn't feel his warmth, the quilt acting as a barrier between us.

I lifted my arm out from under the sheets, wrapping it around him, finally at ease. "Tell me a story."

"What?" He chuckled, incredulous.

"You heard me," I mumbled, my fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.

"You're twenty-seven," There was a tint of hilarity in his tone. "Shouldn't you be acting your age?"

"Not necessarily," My voice penetrated the darkness. "… Tell me a story."

"Alright," He paused to think. After a few moments of silence, he began, "Once upon a time, in a land far, far away …"

"Not that kind of story," I interrupted him.

"What kind of story then?" I could feel his eyes glued to me.

"Not a princess story," I clarified, snuggling into him.

"You're not into fairytales?" He chuckled, running his fingers through my hair softly.

"Fairytales aren't very believable or realistic," I responded, glancing out at the window at the moon, its eerie glow illuminating the bedroom.

"So … I can't be classified as your knight in shining armor?" He wondered playfully, his loving tone sending my heart aflame.

"I don't recall you showing up on a noble steed," I shrugged.

He laughed quietly, his finger gently caressing the side of my face.

"I love you," I whispered, my eyes lingering up to his face.

"I belong to you now," He murmured into my ear.

That was all I needed to hear – that was all I ever needed to live off of for the rest of my life. I had Mason and that was all that really mattered; as cliché as it sounded, I knew that nothing would be able to hurt me when I was with him – not the wolf, not Nathaniel, not anything.

"That's nice to hear," I smiled, burying my face into his shoulder.

"Hmm," He exhaled. "It's nice to say."

His words hung in the air for quite some time then, both of us staying silent long enough to take pleasure in the words themselves. His voice remained wrapped around my mind, the prominent sound in my brain, as I drifted off to sleep.

The nightmare was long gone by now, and a beautiful dream took its place.

In the dream, there was silence – something I'd come to adore these past few weeks. I was in the same meadow as before, the same one from my nightmare and the same one that had haunted me for weeks. Only now, it seemed more luminous than ever – a place of peace rather than a place of horror.

I was lying in the center of the majestic field, underneath a lone maple tree. My back was pressed up against the trunk, my eyes floating across each corner of the meadow.

And there _he_ was.

Mason emerged from the woods, wearing the same dark clothes that he'd worn in the second half of my previous nightmare. However, they weren't as dark as they were before – they seemed grayer now, less black.

He approached me, never speaking, his eyes resting on mine.

Once he reached the shade of the tree, he sat down at my side, wrapping his arm around me and leaning against me, caressing my cheek with the utmost care. I could hear him breathing softly against my cheek, each steady, carefully breath momentarily paralyzing me.

The _whoosh_ of the wind was the only noise, but it was gentle, playing with the grass and the trees. Slowly but surely, the soft melody of a piano came into play, every strand of grass flowing with the tune. Each note was crisp, dominating the still air with an undefeatable confidence.

As the song drifted softly from a major to minor key, the image began to blur, the picture of pure tranquility fading before my eyes. Mason's features became less clear, as did mine – everything hazing and eventually evaporating to black.

The one thing that remained, however, was the piano, gracefully playing its harmony, still with the same decorum and eminence it began with. Peacefully entering into the background, the sound of a mild rainfall complimented the piano. Nonetheless, the image was still black – I was still blind, no longer able to see the beautiful dream that had serenaded my long empty heart.

My eyelids began to flicker as I awoke, the same sounds still dominant.

Sitting up in my bed, I could still hear the piano elegantly calling to me from downstairs. Turning, I realized Mason was not beside me, just a rumpled pile of covers remained where his body once lay beside me.

Standing out of bed, the crisp cold air nipped at my exposed skin, freezing me down to my core. I shuffled down the steps just as the piece shifted to a close, practically running face first into Mason.

"Oh, you're awake," He sighed disappointedly. "I wanted to surprise you."

I noticed what he was holding: a tray with a plate on it, piled high with his signature pancakes, and to top it all off, one extra large glass of chocolate milk.

"I'm surprised all right," I rubbed my eyes, still a bit exhausted. "Breakfast in bed? What's the occasion?"

"No occasion," He walked into the kitchen and I followed him. "I just felt like doing something nice for you."

"Well, that's very thoughtful," I smiled as he turned to me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him briefly. Once I pulled away, he smiled, "I take it you slept well last night? You were out like a light."

"I told you," I shrugged as he let go and walked over to the counter. "The only way I can have a good night's rest is if you are lying next to me."

"Which I was," He added.

"Which is why I had the most amazing dream," I sat down at the table. Glancing over at my iPod dock, I noticed that the same piece from my dream was filtering from my speakers. "When did you turn that on?'

He followed my gaze. "The stereo? Oh, an hour or two ago."

"How long has that particular song been playing?" I wondered curiously.

"Since I turned it on," He admitted. "It really is a nice song, so I put it on repeat. Why do you ask?"

"That was playing all throughout my dream," I replied.

He laughed before speaking again. "That must've been a beautiful dream."

"It was," I nodded. "I'd do anything to go back to it."

"Better than a murderous nightmare?" He assumed, handing me the plate of pancakes that had been on the tray.

"Most definitely," I nodded.

"Well," He grinned, sitting across from me, watching as I ate. "I'm glad you're feeling better. I think you've gotten your fair share of bad dreams for the month."

"Yeah," I agreed, smiling. "As long as you don't leave, I think its sweet dreams from here on out."

"I hope so," He leaned back in his chair. "By the way, I was thinking …"

He was interrupted by the doorbell.

"I've got it," Mason stood, shuffling out into the foyer.

I remained seated, eagerly eating my pancakes – I hadn't realized how hungry I actually was. All of a sudden, a flashing light caught my eye.

There were three police cruisers parked out in front of the house.

"Mason?" I stood, about to walk out into the foyer. However, someone entered the kitchen, blocking my exit.

It was Chief Donahue, his stern face looking a bit more exhausted than usual. His shadowy eyes watched me with a wary expression.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Chief Donahue pushed me back down into my seat. "I hate to barge in here so early in the morning, but I'm going to have to ask you a couple questions."

"Where's Mason?" I wondered, my eyes widening.

"Don't worry about him," the Chief suggested. "He's just waiting for you outside. We can't have anyone overhearing this conversation."

"If this is about the wolves, I don't know much more than you do," I said.

"This isn't about the wolf case," he shook his head, taking a pad of paper out of his pocket. "This is about Asher Elliot."

I said nothing.

"Apparently, you know something we don't," His mouth curved into a smile – I knew he was just trying to make me feel comfortable, but I had never felt more uncomfortable in my entire life.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, refusing.

"That's not what Mr. Redborn told me," The Chief frowned. "According to him, you are pretty good friends with Elliot family, correct?"

"What did he tell you?" I stared down at the table, so not to give anything away with my eyes.

"You and Nathaniel remain in close touch?" He questioned.

"I guess," I shook my head. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Redborn accidentally hacked into your system while trying to send you an e-mail," He explained. "In your deleted messages folder, there were several e-mails from Asher. Have you been concealing information from the authorities?"

"_Accidentally_? How do you _accidentally_ hack someone's computer?"

"I don't know how it happened," He frowned. "But somehow, someway, you have been in contact with a missing person and a potential criminal."

"How dare you accuse him," I tried my best to contain my temper.

"You can either cooperate or not, ma'am," Chief Donahue threatened. "If I were you, I would cooperate."

Again, I said nothing.

"Do you know the location of Asher Elliot and his captive?" He inquired.

"Captive?" I stared at him incredulously. "This is a teenage boy, not a terrorist. What crimes do you have proof to accuse him of?"

"This boy is capable of …"

I interrupted him. "I don't think it matters what he's capable of. I think it's a matter of what he's doing. And as far as I know, he hasn't done anything wrong."

"So you admit it? You do know something," He nodded.

"I know as much as you do," I snapped. "I only know what the e-mail told me."

"Then maybe can you answer this for me," the Chief shot back. "Tell me why I shouldn't arrest this boy for kidnapping and, henceforth, every crime he is capable of committing."

"Because he had no other choice," I mumbled under my breath.

Chief Donahue exhaled loudly, stopping the inquiry for a moment. Then glancing over at my iPod dock, he shouted, "Redborn, turn that damn thing off! It's giving me a headache."

Nathaniel emerged from the hallway, avoiding my eyes completely. Had he been here the entire time? After switching off the dock, he turned away.

I stood from my seat, watching as he left the kitchen without another word.

"Because he had no other choice?" The Chief raised an eyebrow.

"Nathaniel," I whispered, hurriedly storming out of the kitchen and into the foyer. Turning the corner, I saw Nathaniel sitting on the couch.

He looked up at me with bottomless eyes.

I fought the urge to explode. "What is wrong with you? You hacked into my computer because you were mad at me?"

"You were hiding personal information that was necessary to solve this case," His voice was monotone, emotionless. "You put this upon yourself."

"Think of Asher," I whispered so only he could hear – I knew Chief Donahue was probably eavesdropping. "You were in the same situation he is. How would you have liked it if Robyn turned you in?"

"That's a completely different subject entirely," He protested blankly.

"No, it's not," I exhaled. "What about Krista? She's so distraught right now."

"And that's why I must go to whatever lengths to find this boy," Nathaniel explained. "You would want that, right? To make your friend happy again?"

"Sure, I want her to be happy again," I exhaled. "But how do you think she would feel if she found out her best friend was keeping things from her?"

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you decided to keep secrets," He shot out of his seat, explosive.

I knew with that last statement Nathaniel wasn't talking about the case. Of course, I felt guilty for keeping secrets from him; he must've felt so dejected, but I didn't think this was the right time or the right way to get back at me.

"Are you going to arrest me, Chief Donahue?" I whimpered.

"Well …" I heard the man's gruff voice from behind me. "Obviously, there is more to this than I had previously imagined. Now that I think about it, the e-mail didn't say much that we didn't already know."

"Chief …" Nathaniel tried to object.

"That's enough out of you, Redborn," The Chief jabbed his finger in Nathaniel's direction, then he turned to me, "I'm sorry to have so rudely ruined your morning. I'll get your boyfriend back in here and you can continue with your day. Have a lovely weekend, miss."

"Thank you," I nodded.

Nathaniel grimaced at me, but quickly erased all expression when the Chief glimpsed over at him. Donahue was out the door in a flash, but Nathaniel lingered behind.

"There _is_ a way to accidentally hack someone's computer," He said roughly.

"Oh, really?" I crossed my arms across my chest. "And how is that?"

"I got your e-mail account out of your records, remember?" He sighed. "When I was logging on to my account at the station, I accidentally logged into yours. It wasn't like I meant to get back at you or anything."

I didn't respond.

"By the way," Nathaniel turned to look at me. "I think you should check your messages."

And with that he was out the front door in seconds.

My heart pounded inside my chest – maybe I'd underestimated Nathaniel all this time; perhaps, he was a more profound person than I gave him credit for. Or maybe he was just as one-layered as I'd thought before; maybe Nathaniel was completely typical only with an appealing, compassionate skin.

… No, I refused to believe that. Obviously, he cared for me on a much deeper level than I'd expected.

Instantly, I felt like the shallow one – I'd been so quick to assume that he hacked my computer as payback, to get revenge after last night. However, it was something as simple as a glitch in the system, something completely insignificant turned into a much bigger problem.

Besides, if he hadn't reported the messages to the authorities, I probably would've gotten in even bigger trouble later. And he could've lost his job.

So, much to my surprise, I was glad to be ratted out.

"Care to tell me what that was all about?"

I looked up at the door to see Mason standing there; behind him, the police cruisers were starting up and roaring away.

I didn't want to worry him.

"It's really nothing," I reassured him, walking into the foyer and standing in front of him, waiting for him to respond.

His eyes searched mine, expectant. "It didn't seem like nothing."

"Asher's just been missing for awhile now," I mused, walking back into the kitchen. "Everyone should've known that it wouldn't be long before the PD started pointing fingers. I just never thought it would be at me."

Mason followed me, sitting down at the table and leaning back in his chair. He bent his head back, running his hand through his tousled hair.

"I was worried for a second there," He admitted.

"You don't have to be worried," I sat down across from him.

His face grew contemplative. "You said Asher, right? As in Asher Elliot?"

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

"I heard a rumor going around that Krista's kid was missing," He shrugged, glancing out the window. "I just didn't think it was actually true."

"This isn't the type of town for false rumors," I confirmed. "It's so small, that if someone sneaks in a lie, you could probably sniff them out."

"I guess you're right," He shrugged, standing.

I watched him, noting his distressed expression – but I didn't bring it up.

"We should get to work," He decided, noticing the time on the microwave. "We're already going to be late."

"Under the circumstances, I think Coop will be able to deal with it if we are a couple minutes late," I exhaled, standing as well.

"Are you alright?" Mason asked out of the blue, watching me solicitously.

"I'm fine," I replied honestly, heading into the foyer and grabbing my bulky coat. "Should I not be?"

"I just thought that it would be hard for you," He shrugged. "Nathaniel didn't look like the friendliest guy when I saw him walk out, so I can only assume you had a fight."

"We didn't fight," I lied – I knew for a fact that's exactly what we did, I just didn't want to admit it. "Granted we did get a little snappy, but I think … well, I think everything will be okay."

"Sometimes I can't believe that guy," Mason shook his head, shrugging into his jacket. "He never takes into account how you are feeling, what you are going through. It's like all he ever does is argue with you."

"We don't always argue," I denied.

"I just don't think that he's good for you," His lip curved up into a comforting half-smile, gripping my wrist with a concerned expression. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I can fend for myself," I opened the door, venturing out into the crisp December winds.

"I know you can," He helped me down the wet steps. "Just promise me one thing …." His voice trailed away.

His expression turned vacant as he headed for the Mercedes, his hand still gently grasping mine. I couldn't help but notice the uncertainty in his expression.

"Yes?" I prompted him to continue.

He glanced up at me but then his eyes fell on his car. "Don't do anything reckless, or anything you'll regret."

I noted his tone. "You're acting like you're leaving."

"Oh, I'm not leaving. I can't now," He shook his head, laughing slightly. "The police just came to the house, and you expect me to leave you alone? Nice try."

"I'm not trying to get rid of you," I reminded him.

"Good thing," He smiled, helping me into the passenger seat. "Because I wouldn't be able to leave you if I tried."


	17. Chapter 15

**_I want to apologize for not uploading on Thursday. A new internet system was being installed to my computer and I wasn't able to update. _**

**_And I also want apologize for the whole Mason-Philip confusion... In a past life, the names were actually of people I knew, so ... yes, it has been effectively changed. My PROFUSE apologies. 0_0_**

That week passed faster than I was able to process.

Lucky for me, it was completely run of the mill – and, honestly, I liked it that way. Nathaniel steered clear of my house for the remainder of that week, not calling, not visiting, nothing. And, as much as I missed him, I was glad he didn't come. It gave Mason the chance to settle in after his return, without all the adversity and arguments that could've ruined this week completely.

I'd checked my messages like Nathaniel told me to. There was only one message in my inbox, and it had been an apology. To tell the truth, I didn't really like Nathaniel's method of apologizing – the cycle was getting horribly repetitive: we fight, he apologizes through a heartfelt e-mail and then we are suddenly all better again. However, I kind of got the idea that Nathaniel was being smart this week – he decided it was best just to avoid me altogether, consequently, ignoring Mason as well.

It was pretty ingenuous – to steer clear of a fight before it starts.

As for Mason, he was like a child excitedly waiting for Santa Claus. He brought up the holiday almost every day that week, and that only made me anxious – the more he mentioned it, the more I feared the presents to come. He even shut me out of the garage, which apparently had become his gift-wrapping headquarters.

My only question was: how did he get all of that stuff in there right under my nose? By the way he was acting, you'd think he snuck a mobile home in there; I could only begin to imagine how overboard he was willing to go. Mason had never been impaired in the money department, and when it came to spoiling his girlfriend, he didn't hold back. He'd buy an island and name it after her if she asked for it.

Luckily, I didn't need an island – I didn't need anything; but he just didn't want to hear that. He continually warned me that this Christmas would be special for the both of us, different than either of us could hope for.

"This'll be a life changing Christmas for us, love," He would smile.

That only worried me. What if _had_ bought a house? Just because I brought it up earlier? Oh, I hoped it wasn't something too big, too life changing. Oh, I wished this holiday would just come and go, so I'd be able to stop worrying about it.

Finally, Christmas morning did come.

I awoke in bed – again, alone – but I could hear my radio playing downstairs, so I knew Mason was still here. As I stood out of bed, I caught a glimpse of my window. Outside on the ground was covered with thin layer of snow, blanketing everything in sight and gracing the bare trees elegantly. Icicles were dangling from the roof's overhang and dripping down into the bank below – overall the whole image was quite picturesque.

Leaving the bedroom, I could smell bacon from downstairs. I began my way down, but I hadn't even reached the second step when Mason turned the corner and ran up to stop me.

"Nope," He shook his head, pushing me back up to the top of the stairs. His gorgeous smile was breathtaking, I couldn't help but stare.

Today, Mason seemed brilliantly vivacious. His expression was bright, his eyes wide – I suddenly pictured him with a wagging tail. He was still in his pajamas, but even in something so casual, he looked stunning – he wore baggy, black sweatpants and a white V-neck that was very formfitting on him. By and large, he was simply beautiful … but then again, he always was to me.

"Why can't I go downstairs?" I pouted.

"I'm not ready yet," He answered, his mouth curving into a smirk.

"What have you done?" I put my hands on my hips.

"Don't be a killjoy," He chuckled. "And you'll love it, I promise."

"Nothing outlandish, right?" I hoped.

"I can't promise that," He shrugged, stepping up to the top step and pushing me back a little further. "Why don't you get ready? You know, take a shower, get dressed. I'll call you down when I'm done."

"Okay," I allowed, trusting him.

I was about to walk away when he pulled me back by the waist. "By the way," He held me close to him, giving me an affectionate kiss. I instantly went weak in his arms. "Merry Christmas."

I pulled away, blinking excessively, trying to regain clarity.

"Do you feel faint?" He asked, chuckling.

"I think I'll live," I exhaled, leaving his grasp and walking to the bathroom.

Mason was back down the stairs in a flash, back to whatever he'd been plotting by the time I'd reached the bathroom.

I looked at myself in the mirror, noting how the bright glow reflecting off outside's snowfall declared me even more chalky white than usual. My green eyes seemed a bit darker, nearing hazel – all of these were slight changes, but changes I recognized came with age.

Ah, aging – something you love when you're young but hate when you're old. Unfortunately, I was in between young and old, unable to decide whether it was something that bothered me yet.

Looking at myself for too long in the mirror, I figured age was beginning to bother me now.

I did as Mason instructed: I took a quick shower and got dressed. I decided to dress simply today – I slipped a slimming green sweater over my head and slid into some blue denims. After brushing my teeth, I sat at the top of the stairs and waited for Mason to call me down.

As I sat there, I felt rather childish. My previous Christmases hadn't been very exciting events to say the least. The last time I had a traditional Christmas with my family was when I was sixteen – and a traditional Christmas at the Posey's wasn't always a fun experience. It often ended in yelling, or whining … or any of the above really. The Christmas before I left for college had been relatively nice, though. My parents decided to do something special, so we went to a restaurant in Washington D.C. with some of our family friends. It was enjoyable, but I didn't think eating at a burger joint was a classic Christmas episode.

Now that I thought about it, this would be my first real Christmas in a long time.

"Alright, come down," Mason appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Finally," I exhaled, sluggishly shuffling down the steps. My eyes scanned the foyer – no decorations, no holly. So far so good.

"Close your eyes," He instructed.

"Do I have to?" I complained, closing my eyes anyway.

"Yes, you do," He replied with a laugh, guiding me by the lower back in some unknown direction. He put his hands over my eyes, just to make sure I couldn't sneak a quick look. "Now, be careful, watch out for the wall. Today is not a good day for a concussion."

"I'll try my best," I extended my hands out in front of me, so not to run into anything. I could hear my iPod dock whispering slowly to my right.

Light peeked through the creases between Mason's fingers. "Alright. Open."

He pulled his hand away as my eyes flickered open. My eyes fell on the kitchen table – frankly, I was pleasantly surprised. The ratty table was adorned with a white table cloth. On the table was a beautiful candlelit breakfast, a small glass with a single rose sitting in it overlooking our meals. Two plates full with eggs and bacon tempted me – my stomach growled just looking at it.

"What do you think?" He questioned, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"It's great," I shook my head. "It all looks so good. Thank you." I turned around, giving him a brief hug and then turning to sit down at the table.

"I'm glad you like it," He grinned widely, sitting down across from me.

I jabbed my fork into the eggs, taking a bite. "This is so delicious."

"Thanks," He grinned, draping one arm over the back of his chair and fiddling with his fork in the other hand.

I noticed there was less on his plate then there was on mine. "Are you not that hungry?"

"I snatched a couple bites while I was making it," He responded. "I'm full already. But, please, you eat as much as you want – there are leftovers."

"Just think," I paused to chew before continuing. "I'd be eating microwave meals right now if it weren't for you. Having you around is like having my own personal chef."

"I'm honored," He teased, a loving smile on his face.

"Well, thank you," I said, picking up a slice of bacon and biting into it.

"It's the least I can do," He shrugged. "Just think of it as my gift to you, for your impeccable hospitality. To be honest, when I first got here, I thought you wouldn't let me in."

"But I let you live with me," I sighed. "Funny how that turned out."

"Or maybe it's fate," His striking eyes landed on me and didn't look away.

"What do you mean?" I raised an eyebrow, putting down my fork.

"Oh, nothing," He grinned, waving his hand carelessly. "I just thought … isn't it kind of ironic that we clicked so well after all this time?"

"Some people are just meant to be together," I surmised. His voice was so careful and out of this world, and I felt insignificant trying to respond to it.

"I think so, too," He nodded, but he didn't continue.

"I mean, fate must've known," I was speaking primarily to myself now. "When we were dating in high school, it must've known that we would be together again eventually, no matter how long the time span was in between."

"You're talking as if fate is a person," He mused.

"Not a person," I corrected. "More of a higher being."

"Like a god?" He guessed, twiddling with is fork again.

"Not that high," I paused, my fork stabbed into the eggs. "Maybe a demigod."

He laughed under his breath before continuing, "Well, sometimes fate meddles with things it shouldn't – so I guess comparing it to a god with human faults and mannerisms is only fitting."

Nodding in response, I took another bite of the eggs.

"I don't like fate very much," He exhaled. "It always steps in at the worst possible moment."

"Don't be rude to it," I shook my head. "Fate decides the rest of your life."

"Yeah, well, not this one," Mason denied. "I won't let it. Fate killed my past life. I won't let it kill this one, too."

"Fate didn't kill it," I corrected him. "You did. Fate tried to tell you it wouldn't work, but you decided not to listen."

"So, what you're saying is …" He paused to think. "I had what was coming for me all along."

"Exactly," I sighed. "But that won't happen this time."

"And why not?" He smiled widely. I knew he already knew the answer, but he just wanted to hear it aloud.

"Because fate is on our side this time," I answered.

"And even if it's not," He looked out the window at the woods. "There is nothing I won't do to keep us standing."

"You sound self-confident," I giggled.

"I am," He agreed, laughing. Then he added, "When I want to be."

"Well, I'm glad you are," I told him. "At least one of us has to be."

His eyes returned to me, a sure smile on his face but questions filling his eyes to the brim. I said nothing more on that subject.

"So, I'm glad this is all," I took the last bite of my eggs. "You really had me worried that you went too far."

"Oh, this isn't all," He chuckled. "This is hardly the beginning."

I groaned in horror. "You're kidding, right?"

"Are you finished your breakfast?" He asked, standing.

"I guess," I shrugged.

He extended his hand out to me and I took it, standing as well. "Close your eyes again," He demanded.

I did as he commanded, but I wasn't sure how up for Phase Two I was. The breakfast was nice, but it only had to get even more farfetched from there. I crossed my fingers and hoped he hadn't gone too extreme.

Placing his hand over my eyes again, he led me out of the kitchen and in another direction, stopping a couple seconds later. Even though we'd stopped, he didn't remove his hand and he didn't tell me to open my eyes. He waited a moment before whispering in my ear.

"I hope you like it."

Once he'd pulled his hand away, I opened my eyes. We were in the living room, and standing before us was a Christmas tree, approximately seven and a half feet tall and decorated with bulbous navy and silver ornaments. That wasn't what shocked me, though – underneath the tree was a sea of various wrapped gifts, all with paper matching the ornaments.

"Ugh," I accidentally proclaimed my distaste out loud.

"C'mon," Mason prompted. "Just open one before you shoot it all down."

"It's all a little overdressed, don't you think?" I exhaled.

"I thought I didn't put enough ornaments up to tell you the truth," He said.

"No, no," I frowned, turning to look at him. "Not the tree, which is really nice, by the way. I'm talking about the holiday in general – don't you think you went a little overboard with all this? I mean, there has to be at least twenty gifts here."

"That's not even all of them," He mumbled under his breath.

"What?" My eyes widened, distressed.

"Alright, maybe I did go a little overboard," He scratched the nape of his neck, embarrassed. "But I promise its all stuff you need."

"Like what?" I crossed my arms across my chest.

"Just open one of them," He placed his arm rightfully around my waist. "That's all I'll ask for."

"Fine," I frowned.

I reached down, picking a small box that had been sitting on one of the tree's limbs. It was simply wrapped – a plain red box with a black ribbon wrapped around it with a bow on top. As soon as I picked it up, Mason let out a low laugh.

"What?" I looked up at him.

"I just find it rather hilarious that you picked the smallest one up first," He shrugged. I considered putting it back, just to make him happy, but he stopped me. "No, but, no, go ahead and open it."

I tore off the ribbon and handed it to him. Then opening the lid, I first saw the gorgeous charm bracelet. It was gray and metallic with small crimson crystals dangling from it. I held it up in the light, awed by its beauty – it sparkled in the daylight, glistening.

"I know you aren't a fan of jewelry," Mason watched my expression warily. "But I saw it and … well, I thought of you."

"I-it's beautiful," I stammered like an idiot. "Thank you so much."

"Wow, I'm two for two," He chuckled as I slipped it onto my wrist.

As I held up my wrist, it sparkled when the natural light hit it at just the right angle. Honestly, I couldn't have asked for anything better.

"Mind if I shoot for three for three?" He raised an eyebrow.

"There's more?" I moaned, sighing.

"Plenty," He smiled, leaving my side and heading into the foyer. He took my coat off the hook and tossed it to me. Surprisingly, I caught it.

"We're going outside?" I raised an eyebrow. Then, fearing the worst, I walked out into the foyer, "You didn't actually by me a house, did you?"

"No, no," He put on his jacket as well. "It's not _that_ big."

"But if its outside, that must mean it's pretty big," I guessed.

"Well," He paused, opening the door. "It's big enough for you to fit in."

Clueless, I stepped out onto the porch.

"I would make you close your eyes," Mason held my hand. "But I don't want you to slip."

He kindly helped me down the stairs, letting go of me once we reached the front walk. The snow crunched under our feet as we went – I carefully watched my footing, trying my best not to trip. It wasn't until I got halfway down the walk that I looked up at the driveway. I didn't speak at first, but when I did, my voice was no more than a whisper.

"A car?" I said incredulously.

Not just a car. A Volvo, silver to be exact. Identical to Edward Cullen's, same model and everything. At first, I was mystified, but then I grew skeptical, turning to look at him.

"My truck runs perfectly," I reminded him.

"It's not for you," Mason denied. "Well, not directly, at least. When your car breaks down – which it will – the Volvo is yours. Until then, I'll use it."

"Wait," My eyes scanned the driveway, but I didn't find what I was looking for. "Where's your Mercedes?"

"I got rid of it," He shrugged like it was no big deal.

"What?" I was shocked. "Why? It was running fine!"

"Sure, it was a fun car while it lasted," He smiled. "But I was up for something new."

"That car was only a year old," I sighed, adding, "At most."

"Unlike you," He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Not everyone waits for their car to die before they get a new one."

"You didn't have to do that," I frowned.

"I wanted to," He smiled. "Besides, I heard that Volvos are extremely safe. If I'm going to be hanging around you, I'll need to babyproof everything I own."

"I'm not a baby," I put my hands on my hips.

"You're _my_ baby," He grinned, pulling me close to him and placing a sweet kiss on my lips. I felt unstable, drunk just by one kiss – but that was all it took.

When our lips disconnected, I didn't allow him to let me go. I just held onto him – I wished I could've gotten closer but my stupid bulky jacket was getting in the way. His eyes stared back into mine devotedly; at that moment, I felt instantly carefree. Funny how one look into his eyes was all it took to salvage me.

"How about a round of _Twilight_?" He chuckled.

"Are you serious?" I smiled.

"I just figured that's what you would want to do," He shrugged.

"I'd love to," I backed away, but didn't let go of his hand. "Are you up for all four?"

"Uh," He paused to laugh. "Sure, I guess."

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," I laughed as we made our way inside.

We hadn't gotten very far into the _Twilight Saga_.

With the intention of watching all four movies but not the energy, we watched _Twilight _and then skipped up to _Eclipse_, afterwards calling it quits. By then it was about two o'clock in the afternoon, and, to no one's surprise, the rain came not soon after, washing away every trace of snow. Mason was somewhat disappointed that it hadn't been the perfect white Christmas he'd been hoping for, but neither of us really minded.

Mason prepared us a belated lunch of bologna sandwiches – both of us finished them in no time, but we sat at the table for more than an hour, talking to each other about pointless things. A reoccurring topic, I noticed, was the weather; Mason didn't hide his hatred for Fork's precipitation and he continually urged me to get out of this gray trap, longing to move as soon as possible.

I couldn't give in, though, even if I wanted to.

Forks was a characteristic of mine – I could now be classified as the girl who actually enjoyed living in the dark. You would think that anyone living here would be more than happy to escape – it was only a human's nature to run from the dreariness – but I wanted nothing more than to stay. Hopefully, I would be able to convince Mason to think the same.

At about three-thirty, Mason glanced up at me with a vivid expression – but he tried his best to hide this sudden excitement. "So, how did you like Christmas?"

"Definitely one of my best," I replied. "Despite the gifts, of course."

He rolled his eyes. "Hmm, did it strike you as life changing?"

"I don't know about _life changing_," I sighed. "But I really enjoyed it."

"Hmm," He repeated, standing out of his seat. "I have to get something from upstairs. I'll only be a second."

"It better not be another gift," I took a sip of water as he walked to the foyer.

"Depends on how you look at it," I could hear his voice and the tapping of his footsteps heading up the staircase.

I sat there alone, staring outside at the falling rain. The falling water rinsed away the last of the snow off of the pavement, washing it into the edge of the woods. I looked down to hide my smile, even though no one was there to see it; I hated snow, and it was no secret, but I suppose you can't do much about it when in snows on Christmas – it's expected on this day of all days, a standard attribute of this holiday's over commercialized season.

So, on today of all days, the least I could do was tolerate it.

The rain quieted itself then, just becoming a soft whisper, gently pattering on the roof. And then a sound filled the air, so supernaturally, I thought it was only my imagination playing tricks on me. It was music, softly wafting down the steps and into the kitchen – the harmony was one I recognized, but nothing I could quite put my finger on. The last time I heard it seemed to be so long ago, just a figment of my mind's eye now.

I stood, mystified.

It was piano alone, playing at pianissimo but getting elegantly louder and louder as the piece reached its climax. I left my seat in the kitchen and quietly entered the foyer, peeking up the stairs – I tried to make as little noise as possible, in fear that I would interrupt the beautiful melody, depriving it of its majesty.

Silently, I made my way up the steps, the music getting louder as I approached. I noted the ajar door to my right once I reached the top of the stairwell, a door that had not been touched since I moved into this house.

It was the _Twilight_ room.

I should've guessed Mason's curiosity would get to him, impelling him just to take a look. I walked in, expecting to see Mason standing beside a CD player that uttered the marvelous tune. However, I didn't expect what I saw and I most definitely didn't expect it all to be for me.

Sitting in the center of the _Twilight_ room was a sleek baby grand, and sitting on the bench was Mason. His back was turned to me, but I could see his hands fly across the keys as he played. His fingers gently caressed the ivory with care, the kind of care that could take, even for a skilled musician, years to master.

I stood there, a bit in awe and a bit in love.

He didn't turn to look at me; he continued to play perfectly, without a single missed note or a slip in timing. It was then that I realized where the tune was from – it was not something from my childhood or something I'd heard long ago … it was something from a dream.

The dream of the meadow, the silent dream that had graced my slumber only once, and the dream that I had promised myself never to forget. It was a magnificent piece in my dreamland, but when Mason played it, it seemed all the more magical.

His long, slender fingers gently glided up to the higher keys, each note more marvelous than the one before it. He paused for a moment, his hands then retreating to the end of the piano to hit a minor ending note.

I was speechless, my thoughts smashing into one another.

He didn't turn to me, he simply sat there, his hands falling into his lap. I wasn't quite sure if he was waiting for me to speak … or if I was even capable of speaking, for that matter.

After too long, Mason finally turned to face me. "Too much?"

I shifted all my weight, leaning against the wall for support. "I think I'm going to pass out." My pulse pounded inside my head, my forehead beating.

Immediately, he was at my side, reaching out to help me.

I gripped his forearm, feeling dangerously unstable, as he guided me over to the piano bench. Setting me down, he hovered above me, concerned.

To lighten the mood, he chuckled, "I didn't mean to stun you."

I took all the basic precautions: lifted my legs and held my head between my knees, checked my pulse, etc. Once all my vital signs seemed relatively back to normal, I looked back up at him.

"You just can't do that to me," I exhaled deeply.

"Do what?" He raised an eyebrow, his expression endearingly curious.

"You always do something that bewilders me," I glanced up at him. "Some people just don't realize that the term "breathtaking" applies literally to me."

He laughed. "Well, then maybe now isn't a good time."

"A good time for what?" I lifted my head slowly out from between my legs, setting my feet down on the floor.

"Nothing … actually, it's not nothing," He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets, his eyes retreating to the window. "But if you aren't mentally stable right now, I don't think I should do anything too hasty."

"What are you talking about?" I followed his gaze out the window, both of us staring at the rain for a couple minutes.

"Maybe I should … just for the sake of losing the moment – because I can't risk that," He bit his lip, speaking his thoughts aloud.

I was terribly confused.

"I'll just come out with it then," He acknowledged my confusion and stood right in front of me. "Wow. I don't remember it being this hard."

There was silence.

"Scarlett, do you love me?" He asked, looking at me with nervous eyes.

"Of course," I nodded. "I've told you plenty of times."

"Well, say it again. Just so I can be sure," He simpered.

"I love you," I reiterated without a moment of hesitation.

He did nothing but nod, a smile forming on his face. There was quiet again, only the rain could be heard above us. He kept saying "good, just do it" under his breath; once or twice he exhaled to himself, "she loves you so why aren't you saying anything." A couple minutes passed before he put his hand up to his mouth, trying to think. Finally, he took something out of his pocket, but he'd wrapped his fingers so tightly around it I couldn't see what it was. Then, leaning down and kneeling on his left knee, he opened the thing he'd been holding.

"Marry me."

My stomach jumped into my throat, my breathing becoming dangerously heavy. _Don't faint! Don't pass out! _My thoughts instructed on the spur of the moment. _Not now! Don't ruin this for him! Don't ruin this! _

"You're hesitating," He swallowed nervously.

"I-I'm not hesitating," I stammered quietly. "I c-can't breathe."

He chuckled under his breath, looking down at the floor and then back up at me. "How about this? Blink once if yes, blink twice if no."

I rolled my eyes, lunging forward onto him. "Oh, y-yes."

My arms locked around his neck and my arms wrapped around his waist – he was a bit stunned at first, but after a moment he exhaled, wrapping his arms around me. I pulled back slightly, kissing him with a little bit too much enthusiasm – he almost fell backwards.

Wow. Forever – that's how long our love would last. To be honest, I couldn't think of anything better to do with the rest of my life.

One of my previous boyfriends had proposed to me – actually, he'd been trying to make me stay with him in Maryland; he didn't want me to move to Forks, mainly because he didn't think it was healthy for me. However, he and I both knew he wasn't up to it, and, at the time, neither was I. The proposal was rather weak, if I do say so myself: "Let's go to Vegas. It'll be fun. And maybe even if you're up to it, we could get married and start a life together." I hated being impolite, but I'd laughed after he said that. Honestly, that proposal was a complete failed attempt.

But not this one – I couldn't have thought of anything more considerate, more beautiful. Obviously, Mason had been considering this for a long while. I mean, it's impossible for someone to learn impeccable piano overnight. Unless …

I pulled away. "That's what the piano lessons were for!"

"You saw that on my computer?" He raised an eyebrow. "Well, good thing you didn't figure it out beforehand."

"And the tuxedo … is for the wedding."

"Well, aren't you smart?" He chuckled sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes again, leaning in and placing my lips on his.

It felt good to know he would never leave, although, part of me knew that he hadn't intended to leave in the first place.


	18. Chapter 15, pt 2

Coop allowed us to take off the rest of Christmas week.

That gave me just enough time to wring every last Christmas infected drop out of Mason. I opened all of the presents that had been flowing out – what seemed to be unendingly – from under the tree. Mason insisted that each and every gift was something I absolutely needed. Granted the GPS was nice, but the rest seemed a little far-fetched to me.

I got an incessant plethora of clothes, all flanking designer tags – "Don't worry," Mason assured me. "My mom picked all of it out. Fashion isn't in my department." Something else on the list of useless gifts were the various gift cards, most of which we would have to go out to Seattle to redeem.

The one that shocked me the most was the $300 universal gift card, which I could use on anything I wanted.

"That's a pretty pricey amount," I'd stated as I held the card in awe.

"Not really," He'd shrugged.

I won't ramble on, but just to list a few more of the gifts Mason so graciously didn't have to get me: two plane tickets to Maryland to visit my parents, a new microwave that looked more like a cloning device rather then something to heat up a TV dinner (it put my shabby little microwave to shame), and a brand new computer to replace the broken down one that was currently collecting dust in my laundry room upstairs. The only thing that cost little to nothing was a short brochure he'd printed out that listed various honeymooning hot spots – all of which included sun, therefore, none of which caught my eye.

Nonetheless, even when it came to the gifts that I didn't entirely appreciate, I still felt utterly guilty for not getting anything for him. So, once New Year's Eve rolled around, I decided to be the one to do something nice for a change.

I took him to Forks Diner, the local eatery that had many local patrons.

Against his will, I persuaded Mason to let me drive the truck instead of the Volvo – "She hasn't been out on the road in too long. When you have a truck as old as this, you think it actually has feelings, so I can't risk playing favorites or else she might break down on me for good," I had said.

As I gently pulled into a spot at the diner, a huge torrent of exhaust flew out the exhaust pipe with a _bang_. Mason looked at me tentatively, but I just shook my head.

"That happens all the time," I told him.

"If you say so," He chuckled, climbing out of the cab.

We headed toward the door side by side, sitting down at a booth by the window as soon as we walked in. Mason's eyes examined the place, as did I.

I'd been here only a couple times before, but the food was definitely worth it. The wooden paneled walls were aged, assumingly from the mid-eighties, early nineties at most. There was a faux wood counter on one side of the room, a couple of people sitting on the barstools and eagerly chatting with each other there. The rest of the tables were booths, each a worn maroon color.

A waitress came up to us then, pulling her long honey brown hair back into a ponytail, and set two menus down in front of us. "Welcome to Forks Diner. Hey, Scarlett. I haven't seen you in awhile."

I recognized her face, but I couldn't remember her name. "I've been kind of busy."

"I can see that," She glanced at Mason, smiling widely. "I'll be back to take your orders in just a moment." She hurried away to another table then.

I opened up the menu, briefly looking over the entrees.

"I'm glad I don't have to cook today," Mason admitted.

"I thought you liked cooking," I set the menu down, looking up at him.

"I do," He nodded, skimming over the set of choices. Then he added, laughing, "I'm just running out of ideas."

"I should've gotten you a cook book," I sighed.

"You don't have to give me anything," He exhaled, watching me.

"Well, I just felt bad that you gave me so much and I gave you nothing," I explained myself.

"You didn't giving me nothing," He countered. "You agreed to marry me – there's not much more to give than that. Not to scare you or anything, but you practically just gave me your life."

"Why would that scare me?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Some girls are control freaks," He laughed. "They don't like the sound of giving their life away."

"Well, you should know by now that my life was yours from the start."

"I figured that," He chuckled under his breath as the waitress returned.

"Have you decided?" She smiled, pulling her notepad out of her apron.

"Yes," Mason looked back down at his menu. "I'll have the steak platter."

"And to drink?" She asked, quickly scribbling down his order on her notepad and then taking his menu from him.

"A Coke, please."

"And for you?" She turned her attention to me.

"The veggie burger," I handed my menu to her. "And a Coke."

"Alright, I'll get right on that," She smiled, walking away.

"A veggie burger?" Mason said, teasingly skeptical. "Vegetarian now, are you?"

"No, I could never do that," I exhaled. "I'm not that much of an extremist. The veggie burgers here are just really good."

"I was never able to swallow those things," he smiled.

"Why not?" I raised an eyebrow, sitting back.

"That's not how a burger's meant to taste," he shrugged.

"Well, I don't think you should be mean to it," I crossed my arms across my chest, sarcastic. "It's trying its best to act like a burger and you are just completely crushing its hopes and dreams."

He laughed. "I'll be sure to apologize to it when the food gets here."

I giggled too, just then realizing how stupid I actually sounded. Sarcasm didn't really work here in Forks; the background was too lifeless for dense humor.

"So what do you feel like doing tonight?" He asked.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "It's New Year's Eve, so why don't we just sit around and watch the ball drop."

The waitress came up to us then, placing our drinks in front of us.

"Sounds fun," He unwrapped a straw and stuck it in his drink. "You know, I was in New York last year for the celebration."

"Really?" I took a sip of my drink. "I was in Maryland. Our power went out, so we ended up listening to a battery-operated radio and playing Monopoly till two in the morning."

"Who were you with?" He wondered.

"Oh, just Lilli and Karolina," I replied, and then I added sardonically, "It sure was a party. What about you? Were you with your friends?"

"Actually, one of my friends from Harvard invited me to his penthouse up there," Mason explained. "Yeah, but when I got there I couldn't find him. So, I basically spent New Year's with a bunch of strangers."

"That sounds horrible," I frowned, taking another sip of my Coke.

"What's so horrible about it?" He wondered. "I mean, it was fun. I had a couple free drinks, talked to a bunch of people I didn't even know." He laughed.

I smiled as well.

He pointed his finger at me. "But the worse part had to be at midnight when everybody kissed. Ugh, I felt so out of place."

"Aw, you didn't have anyone to kiss?" I teased.

"This year I do," He grinned, taking his first sip of Coke. "Believe me, if you asked me this time last year, I would've never thought I'd be engaged."

"Neither would I," I gulped.

"You don't sound too happy about it," He noted.

"No, no," I took another sip. "You can't believe how happy I am. I mean, why would I not be? I'll never have to be alone again. I just … I have to get used to saying the word 'engaged' … it's kind of scary."

"Scary?" He chuckled at my choice of words.

"Extremely," I nodded.

"Well, you don't have to be scared," Mason smiled. "I promise you, I won't ever let anything happen to you."

"I trust you," I vowed.

He looked at me with sincere eyes, yet not knowing what to say next.

"Okay," The waitress came back to our table, balancing two plates on her forearm. "We have the steak platter for you and the veggie burger for you." She set the dishes down in front of us as she spoke.

"Thank you," Mason smiled up at her, and then looked back at me.

"Just flag me down if you need anything," She said, then leaving us to eat.

I picked the bun off the top of the burger, grabbing the mustard and squirting just a little on top of the tomato. Then, closing the lid, I picked up a fry and popped it into my mouth, watching Mason carve out a corner of the steak with his knife and put it into his mouth.

"Good?" I wondered.

"Delicious," He smiled after he finished chewing. He picked up his napkin, wiping his mouth, while I took my first bite.

Once I'd swallowed, I looked at him. "What about Lilli?"

"That was pretty random," He glanced up at me. "What about her?"

"Well, wouldn't it be kind of weird if we … you know, we're married and she still lived with us?" I guessed.

"Yeah, that would be kind of weird," He agreed.

"Yeah," I nodded. "But I can't just kick her out. It's her house, too."

"I think this is something you and her have to settle," He exhaled. "But if she really wants to stay, that's up to her."

"Uh-huh," I nodded, thinking.

How would I tell her? 'Hey, Lilli. By the way, I'm getting married so you have to leave'? I wasn't quite sure if she'd go without a fight either – after all, she put as much money as she could into the house, so it would only make sense that she'd be reluctant to leave. The more I thought about it, the more unpleasant I imagined that phone call to her would be; so I decided to let it be for now – I could always see what she said once she got back.

"But I also think that it'd be creepy," He added, unable to keep an objective head in this conversation. "I mean, maybe you should tell her now. Give her a deadline or something, so she has enough time to pack up her stuff and find a new place."

"I'm not _evicting_ her," I told him. "She can leave when she wants."

"Can it be before the wedding, though?" He begged.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I'll have to talk to her about it, I guess."

Mason paused for a moment, his eyes brightening, "Or maybe she doesn't have to leave."

"I thought you just said it'd be creepy?" I reminded him.

"No, don't you see? This is perfect," He smiled. "She can keep the house, and _we_ can move."

"No, Mason," I shook my head. "I'm not leaving."

"Why not?" He exhaled. "You need some sun."

"I don't think sun is necessary for human life," I sighed. "Besides, I got plenty of sun when I was younger. I went to the beach like everyday of the summer up until senior year of high school."

"Fine then," He finally surrendered. "But isn't it ironic how everything is unfolding? Maybe fate is trying to tell you to leave."

"I thought you didn't like listening to fate?" I took another bite of my burger.

"I don't, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't," He mused.

"Scarlett!" A voice came toward us, startling us both. We had been so deep in each other's voices that we hadn't noticed we'd been leaning across the table towards each other.

We both snapped back into our seats, looking up to see who had spoken.

It was Mr. Mason, Krista's husband. I'd forgotten he worked as a chef here at the diner. He and Asher looked dreadfully similar, with the exception of the eyes. Mr. Mason's eyes were unnaturally fair blue with a slight gray tint to them. And he was tall, very tall – almost seven feet.

"It feels like years since Thanksgiving," He ruminated with a laugh. "I almost thought you disappeared."

"It's good to see you, too, Mr. Mason," I smiled politely.

"How many times have I told you? Call me Andy," He laughed.

"So, how are you doing?" I wondered. "With Asher and everything."

"Better than Krista," He shrugged. "I hate to admit it, but I saw it coming. You've seen the way Krista smothers him, always trying to be more of a best friend than an insecure mother. Maybe if she gave him more space he wouldn't have run."

"Yeah," I nodded. It surprised me how openly he spoke of his son's disappearance – he acted as if it didn't even bother him.

"Don't tell her I said that," He pleaded jokingly. "She'll have my head on a platter."

We all laughed.

"So who might this be?" Andy looked down at Mason.

"Hi, I'm Mason," He extended his hand to him and he shook it.

"Oh, so you are that new doctor," He figured. "Krista mentioned you the other day. She said she could see the sparks between you and Scarlett. Are you two dating or something?"

"You could say that," Mason glimpsed at me.

"Well, that's good," He smiled. "It's always nice to have someone to lean back on. I'll let you get back to your meals – by the way, how is it?"

"The food is great, Andy," I smiled.

"Thanks," He shrugged. "Krista says I put too much into it, but what can I say? It's a gift. I hope you two have a great day. Happy New Year."

"Tell Krista I said hi," I asked of him.

"Of course," Andy obliged. "Enjoy your food."

Andy hurried away then, rushing back into the kitchen to fill the rest of his orders. I wondered why he wasn't more upset – his son has been gone for the past month after all. Maybe he was just good at hiding how he felt.

"You'd never be able to guess his son is missing," I sighed. "He seemed pretty levelheaded … well, more so than Krista, anyway."

"He's a guy," He surmised. "Guys don't show much emotion."

"But still," I exhaled. "He didn't look at all upset."

"Maybe there's just a lot going on under the surface," Mason decided.

"You are probably right," I allowed.

We both were silent, eating slowly.

After a couple minutes, Mason put down his fork. "Are you finished?"

"I think so," I answered.

"I'll get the bill," Mason looked over at the bar, nodding at the waitress. She got the hint, turning the register and then coming over to us.

"You're not paying," I refused. "It's my gift to you, remember?"

"If you really want to pay, you can," Mason leaned back as the waitress placed the bill on the table.

I pulled out my wallet, glancing at the receipt to see the price. Shuffling through my wallet, I pulled out a ten and a five dollar bill but I was still seven dollars short. I peeked up at Mason, only to find him watching me with an amused expression on his face. It was as if he'd known I wouldn't have enough, as if he'd known I would have to rely on him.

"Need some cash?" He laughed.

"No, I've got plenty, thank you," I lied.

He raised an eyebrow, still chuckling under his breath. "Are you sure?"

I exhaled noisily, "I'm only short by a couple dollars."

"Relax," He pulled out his wallet. "I've got it."

"I'll pay you back …" I began, but he interrupted me.

"You don't have to," He sighed, placing the money down and standing. "Ready to go?"

"Yes," I stood reluctantly, irritated.

He read my face. "Are you mad?"

"Not mad," I frowned. "Just frustrated I can't pay for my own lunch."

He rolled his eyes, exhaling, "You are the only person I know who won't generously accept a free meal."

I shrugged, agreeing.

Mason wrapped his arm around my waist as we left the diner, his smirk a definite feature on his face. Once we reached my Chevy, I was about to head for the driver's side when he pulled me back by the hand.

"What?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, nothing," He sighed, leaning closer to me.

His lips connected with mine for a couple short moments, my head spinning on top of my shoulders. I suddenly felt faint, the mere thought of him loving me startlingly too much to handle. I almost melted in his arms, but he caught me before I was even close to hitting the pavement. He propped me up against him, holding me tightly by the waist so I couldn't fall again.

"You fainted," He laughed at me, surprised.

"You're shocked?" I exhaled.

"Actually, I am," He pulled me towards him again.

"Let's get home before I fall flat on my face," I sighed, reaching for the driver's side handle.

"Not so fast, love," He reprimanded, pulling my hand away from the door. "I don't think it would be right of me to let you drive under the influence."

"I'm not drunk!" I protested.

"You could've fooled me," He chuckled, opening the door.

He helped me into the driver's seat, but when I stayed sitting in front of the wheel, he looked at me with wide eyes, skeptical. Exhaling exasperatedly, I slid over to the passenger side, Mason climbing in after I was buckled.

We were back at the house in a couple of minutes – the diner was only a couple of blocks away. Mason helped me out carefully, assisting me up the steps and standing at the door, waiting for me to unlock it.

"Hey, look," Mason turned and faced away from the house.

"What?" I wondered, fiddling with my keys.

"What do you know? It's sunlight," He stood back, staring up at the sky.

I turned too, looking up at the crack in the clouds. "Well, this is the rainiest town in the continental U.S., but that doesn't mean sunlight is foreign to us."

"I must say I'm astonished," He smiled as we walked into the house.

"Rethinking moving?" I hoped.

"Never," He shook his head, walking into the living room. I stood idly in the foyer. "I still don't like the idea of sun once a year."

I rolled my eyes just as the phone rang throughout the house.

Leaving the foyer and walking into the kitchen, I picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"Hey, Scarlett. It's Robyn," The voice on the receiver said.

"Oh, hey, Robyn. What's up?" I smiled, happy to hear her voice.

"Well, I was just talking to Adam and we both think you should come over," She told me. "We're going to have a little New Year's soirée. It would be so great if you could come."

"I don't know …" I sighed.

"Mason – that's his name, right? – he can come, too," She allowed.

"Well, I guess, we could come," I decided.

"Great," She said excitedly. "It'll be so fun! Nathaniel's going to love to see you."

I leaned against the counter. "I don't think it's such a good idea that I …" "Oh, don't be such a worrywart," Robyn interrupted. "I talked to Nathaniel about whatever is going on between you two, and it seems like a petty fight to me. You need to make up and here is the perfect place to do it. Besides, I think he's moved on anyway – he called me earlier and said he has a date for tonight."

"A … a date?"

Honestly, I was shocked. I had gotten the impression that Nathaniel was diehard in love with me … but apparently not. Of course, I was happy for him; I just hadn't expected him to move on so quickly. Mason would be glad, I knew that much.

"I guess we could make up," I shrugged.

"Great," Robyn bubbled. "I'm so glad to hear that. I just couldn't stand the sight of you two hating each other."

"I don't hate him," I muttered, but I don't think she heard me.

"Well, I'll see you and Mason tonight," Robyn said. "Eight o'clock."

"We'll see you then," I promised, my voice unintentionally weak.

"Bye!" And with that, Robyn hung up.

"Who was that?" Mason wondered, walking into the kitchen.

"Robyn," I exhaled, putting the phone back in the dock.

"Who?" He raised an eyebrow. I'd forgotten he didn't know about Robyn, or any of the other Quileutes, for that matter.

"She's a friend of mine who lives down in La Push," I told him. "She invited us to a New Year's Eve party. Feel up to it?"

"Sure, I guess," He shrugged, sitting down at the table.

"Oh, and one more thing," I added discreetly. "Nathaniel will be there."

He heard me. "Nathaniel's going to be there? Are you sure we should go?"

"Don't worry," I shook my head, putting my hands in my jean pockets. "Robyn was telling me that Nathaniel has a date, so I doubt he'll be concerned about me at all. Looks like I'm officially yours from here on out – no more of that ridiculous love triangle."

"Nathaniel has a date?" Mason seemed as surprised as I had been. "Well, good for him." He paused for a moment but then continued, "But, love, I think this triangle is far from over."

"What makes you say that?" I wondered.

"I doubt he would give up that easily," Mason replied.

"Well, I think he wanted this triangle broken as much as I did," I opposed. "And now that the triangle's snapped, we're all back to the way it should be: you and me are two perpendicular lines, and Nathaniel is off being perpendicular with someone else."

"Or maybe he's just distracting himself," Mason shrugged.

"What do you mean?" I sighed, sitting across from him.

"Just because he's trying to see someone else doesn't mean he's over you," Mason told me, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You sound like you want the triangle back," I noted.

"It _is_ more exciting," He joked, laughing quietly under his breath.

"Do you promise to behave tonight?" I implored. "Do you promise not to start an argument?"

"Do I ever start an argument?" He chuckled.

"A lot of the time, yes," I sighed. "You and Nathaniel are both great separately, but, when you two collide, it's explosive."

"I promise to behave," Mason promised.

"Good," I exhaled, standing. "I'm going to go decide what to wear."

"Are you going to wear a dress?" He asked as I exited the kitchen.

"Am I supposed to?" I peeked back around the wall, watching his eyes.

"New Year's Eve parties are supposed to be pretty classy," He informed me. "I've never been to one where I didn't have to wear a suit."

"Well, I think the Quileutes are pretty laid back," I sighed, heading up the steps.

"Just wear a dress anyway," He walked into the foyer, looking up the stairs at me. "If you wear ratty jeans and it's supposed to be elegant, you might look trashy. But if you wear a dress and it's supposed to be casual, you'll without a doubt be the prettiest girl there. It's a win-win situation."

"Fine, I'll wear a dress," I exhaled. "But you're going to wear a suit. I refuse to be the only one that's dolled up."

"Of course," he laughed, disappearing into the living room.

After choosing what I was going to wear, Mason and I decided to waste some time by watching television. There was a musical marathon on one of the cable channels, including a bunch of my personal favorites. Apparently, Mason had never been one for musicals – I, however, tried my hand at theater sophomore year of high school, instantly falling in love with it but not talented enough to continue performing. Rumor has it that klutzes like me weren't what people considered part of the ideal cast for any musical. Go figure.

Around six-thirty, Mason and I turned off the TV and headed upstairs to get dressed. While he was in the shower, I checked my e-mail on his laptop. Honestly, I didn't know what I was hoping for, whether it be another repentant message from Nathaniel or another reassuring message from Asher. My inbox was empty, though, with the exception of one e-mail from my parents, wishing me a Happy New Year and craving to know how I was doing.

I typed up a quick reply to their message, Mason waltzing into the room as soon as I pressed 'send.' He had changed in the bathroom, wearing expensive looking black slacks and a crisp white button-down. He was buttoning it up when he walked in.

"How do I look?" He grinned.

"Like a celebrity," I replied. "And me?"

I stood.

I was wearing a dress that I hadn't worn in a very long time, mainly because I didn't have an occasion to wear it to. It was dark green in the light and could pass as a light charcoal color when it billowed in the right direction. At the bottom were small black velvet flowers, elegantly falling about an inch past my knees. If worn with the right shoes, I bet it could pass as fairly luxurious – but, being who I was, I wore my ratty black Chuck Taylor All Stars, clashing rubbishy with elegance.

"Honestly?" Mason buttoned the cuffs of his sleeves.

"Don't even say it," I exhaled hopelessly. "I look horrible."

He stepped forward, grabbing the hem of my dress and pulling me toward him. "I was going to say you look beautiful, but if that's not what you want to hear, then I guess …"

I interrupted. "I do?"

"You always do," He pecked me on the lips for a fraction of a second. "I must say, the Chucks are a nice touch."

"Why, thank you," I giggled, sitting back down at his laptop.

"What are you doing?" He asked, walking over to the bed.

"Oh, just checking some messages," I exhaled.

"Alright," He pulled one of his sleek blazers out of the closet, picking some lint off the sleeve and then throwing it onto the bed. "Oh, shoot."

"What?" I looked over at him.

"This shirt has a stain on the side," He turned to show me. "I wore it to the funeral and we went out to an Italian restaurant afterwards; I forgot I spilled marinara sauce all over it. Damn, I thought it would come out in the wash."

"Just wear a different one," I suggested, turning back to the computer.

He reached into his suitcase, pulling out another shirt similar to the stained one before it. Then, after tossing it onto the bed, he buttoned down the one he was wearing at threw it into my hamper.

I glanced over at him, and couldn't help but stare.

As weird as it may sound, Mason seemed to look more and more like a male model everyday. He was just as muscular as he'd always been, but only now in this light and from this angle did he look like he was posing for a magazine cover. He noticed me staring, but pretended not to at first. When I didn't stop, he finally turned to look at me.

"What are you looking at?" He wondered.

"Nothing," I denied, turning back to his computer.

Once he turned away again, my eyes were right back on him. I knew staring was rude, but I just couldn't help it – maybe I should seriously consider a shrink.

"I know you're still staring," He chuckled, not turning around.

"I'm not," I lied.

He picked up the clean shirt, slipping his arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up. As he was putting on his jacket, I turned off the computer, standing and taking a black sweater off the back off the chair; I put it on as we made our way down the steps.

Handing me my jacket once we reached the foyer, he smiled, "So, will I be out of place here or what?"

"Probably," I shrugged, putting my jacket on over the sweater. "But I promise I'll help you through it. Besides, everyone here is real easygoing."

"I'll believe you," He opened the front door for me and helped me down the steps. "But I'm just not quite sure how much I'll like them if they're like Nathaniel."

"No need to worry," I teased as he helped me into the passenger seat of the Volvo. "None of them are _nearly_ as edgy as Nathaniel."

"My fingers are crossed," He smirked, shutting my door and walking around to the driver's side.

After backing out of the driveway, Mason sped up the street and around the corner. I reached across the center console and took one of his hands, doodling on them with my fingertips.

"So," I grinned, all my concentration on his hand. "If you could have any super power, what would it be?"

"What?" He looked over at me incredulously.

"If you could have any super …" I repeated.

He interrupted, "No, I heard you. I just can't believe you asked."

"I'm trying to make conversation," I replied honestly.

"This doesn't sound like conversation," He laughed, turning onto Route 101. "It sounds like a game of 20 Questions."

"Alright, then we're playing 20 Questions," I allowed. "If you could have any super power, what would it be?"

"Hmm," He paused to think. "To fly."

"You can't come up with something more original than that?"

"What? I think that would be pretty cool," He shrugged. "I mean, I'd never have to sit through rush hour ever again."

I laughed.

"Although, I'm not so sure how much I'd like it if I lived here," He smiled. "With all this rain, I would sit through rush hour any day."

"Well, if you lived here, what would your super power be?" I rephrased.

"Hmm," He paused to think again. "To read minds."

"Aha! So you are a vampire!" I teased, still playing with his hand.

"I already told you that I'm a vampire, didn't I?" He smirked. "But I think reading minds would be reasonably useful, don't you? That way I would always be able to know why you're moody and not have to ask."

I rolled my eyes.

"How about you?" He asked.

"To control time," I responded instantly.

"You didn't even have to think about it," He noticed.

"It's something I've thought about before. Haven't you ever had a moment in your life that was so perfect you just wish that you could stop time and live in that moment forever? Or one of those moments where there just aren't enough hours in the day …? I could go on forever."

He glanced over at me.

"Either that or telekinesis," I shrugged.

"That I could use," I agreed with a laugh.

"Like for those moments where you're comfortable on the couch and the phone rings," I mused, smiling.

"Oh, definitely," He nodded.

We were silent then, but only for a moment.

"Alright, your turn to propose a topic," I looked forward at the double yellow lines, but my eyes floated over to him when I felt his eyes on me.

"Propose a topic? Okay," He chuckled. "If you could go back and erase any moment in your life, what would it be?"

I sighed, skimming down the endless list in my brain. "When I was seven years old and I spilled cranberry juice in my lap. I remember someone standing up and saying, 'Look! Colleen peed her pants.' I was a laughing stock for weeks."

He peeked over at me out of his peripheral vision. "Why would you erase _that_ moment?"

"It was so embarrassing," I recalled how I felt. "And then in sixth grade, one boy refused to go out with me because of it."

"Hmm," He exhaled, not speaking for a couple minutes. "I wouldn't erase that moment."

"It had nothing to do with you," My eyes were glued to him, trying to read his inscrutable expression but failing.

"It did," He countered, his gaze mechanically locked on the road. "If you remember, that was the first day of second grade … the first time I saw you."

"Oh," My voice grew small, but then picked up again, "But you still would've seen me even if I hadn't stained my pants."

"Sure, I would've seen you," He shrugged. "But you probably wouldn't have stood out to me. Just think, if you hadn't been a klutz, I never would've thought to go up and talk to you."

"I don't think you really talked to me. You just gave me a napkin."

"Out of love," He joked, laughing as we passed the Reservation borderline.

I pointed out to him where to turn, and we headed down the private drive.

"Hmm," I sighed as the car glided smoothly along the gravel – my truck would've been bouncing all over the place. "Do you think Nathaniel will be mad at me still?"

"Does he have reason to be?" Mason asked.

"Well, the last conversation I shared with him didn't really end positively," I recalled, wishing I could take some of the rude things I said to Nathaniel back.

"Tonight maybe you should just try your best to stay on Nathaniel's good side," Mason suggested. "That way he won't be able to be mad at you for long."

"You actually want me to be on good terms with him?" I was surprised.

"Personally, no," He shook his head. "But he's your friend. I can see that you don't like it when you two are in the middle of a fight."

"Well, that's very considerate of you," I said as we pulled up to the house.

He grinned, putting it in park. "I try my best."


	19. Chapter 16

**_I am so very sorry for not posting the past two Thursdays. It seems like I'm eternally sick - sickness after sickness after sickness. I promise to get back on a regimen now that I can actually function. _**

Robyn and Adam's house was spectacularly decorated.

Little twinkling lights adorned the front porch, spanning all the way around the house it seemed. Hanging on the windowed walls from the inside were vertical black streamers, festively embellishing the front porch. Inside, we could see all of the Quileutes talking and laughing together, drinks in their hands and smiles on their faces. Something else about them that caught my eye – they were all in jeans and baggy sweatshirts.

Immediately, I felt overdressed.

Mason noticed my hesitance, obviously not bothered by our too formal appearance, leading me by the lower back to the front door. He rang the doorbell, playing with one of my curled locks behind my back and whispering in my ear, "It'll be fun. You are too tense. Relax."

Adam answered the door, a bright smile on his face. "Scarlett! It's so good to see you!" Then he turned to Mason. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid we haven't met."

"Mason," He shook hands with him.

"Oh, so _you_ are Mason," Adam nodded, a wide grin on his face. "You've been a popular name these past couple days. I'm Adam. Come on in."

We both stepped in the front door, the people standing closest to us coming up to welcome us.

"Hey, sweetheart," Dylan greeted, standing next to Justin.

"Scarlett! It's been a while, hasn't it?" Justin embraced me in a one-armed hug, a plastic cup of soda in his other hand. "And, I'm just spit-balling here, but this must be Mason."

"Uh, yes," Mason nodded, his voice a bit gruff. Just by his tone, I could tell he was already uncomfortable.

"Hmm," Dylan appraised Mason briefly. "Well, good thing Nathaniel isn't here or he probably would've burst."

"Maybe," I shrugged. "It's nice to see you guys."

I discreetly pushed Mason in the other direction, unintentionally almost running face first in to Shane.

"Hey, baby," Shane smiled, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. At first glance, you would think Mason hadn't noticed – but I knew he was looking the other way just to control himself; if not for willpower, he probably would've punched Shane in the face. "I've missed seeing you around here."

He kissed me on the side of the head quickly.

"Yeah, same here, Shane," I grinned, shoving his arm off of me.

"Wow, someone's a little pushy," He laughed. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Sounds good," I smiled as Shane walked away and sat down at the dining room table with Tommy and some girl I did not know by name – it took me a moment, but I soon recognized her to be the vendor from the movie theater.

Mason wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him and murmuring in my ear covertly, "Was he drunk?"

"No," I shook my head, smirking. "He's like that all the time."

"Scarlett!" Robyn gaited up to me, pulling Mason and I apart and wrapping me in a tight hug. "Wow, you both are dressed so beautifully! Oh, I'm so glad you could make it."

"Thanks for inviting us," I smiled politely.

"Hi, Mason," Robyn hugged him briefly. "I'm Robyn. It's nice to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine," Mason nodded, keeping his hand secure around me. "I'm happy we could make it."

"Well, sodas are out on the porch in the cooler if you're thirsty," Robyn told us, her hospitality practically overwhelming. "There is some wine in the fridge but I think we should save that for the countdown, don't you?"

We both nodded indifferently

"Well, uh, you guys can sit down," She gestured toward the sectional. "I tried to get as much dog hair off the couch as I could."

"Where's Hawk?" I wondered as the doorbell rang.

"Zach is out walking him," She replied, stepping around Mason to get to the door. "They should be back soon. By the way, Nathaniel just called. He said he'll be here in a minute."

"Thanks for letting me know," I exhaled sarcastically.

"Because it's not a party without Nathaniel," Mason muttered into my ear.

I laughed quietly as Robyn left us to go answer the door.

"Are you thirsty?" Mason asked courteously.

"I could use some water," I shrugged.

"I'll get that for you," Mason sighed, heading for the back door.

I followed him. "I think I'll stick with you."

We both bee-lined our way around the people and exited out onto the back porch. Even though we had been outside no more than a few minutes ago, I welcomed the crisp air and the solitude. I exhaled as if I had been holding my breath since we walked in the front door.

"Well, they seem like a friendly group of people," Mason commented as nicely as he could, pulling two bottled waters out of the cooler and handing one to me.

"They're great once you get to know them," I twisted off the cap and took a sip of water. "But I could tell they were all kind of uptight around you. Probably because of whatever Nathaniel's told them."

"Are you going to have fun tonight?" Mason wondered solicitously, honestly concerned. "Or is there something you want to warn me about?"

"No, no," I sighed. "This'll be great."

He ignored my reply. "Well, there's always next year."

"I'm not going to let Nathaniel get in the way," I vowed. "Tonight is going to be our night, just you and me."

"Are you saying we should ditch?" He laughed, taking a sip of his water.

"No," I shook my head. "Let me rephrase …. Tonight, it's going to be just you and me … surrounded by a bunch of other people."

"Aha," He leaned closer to me, wrapping his arm around my waist. "So it's one of those "all alone in a crowded room" scenarios?"

"Sure," I shrugged. "Only we won't be alone."

"We'll be alone together," He joked, leaning against the banister.

"I can't think of anything better than that," I grinned, taking a sip of water and glancing through the door into the house.

Nathaniel was walking in the front door then, that bright familiar smile on his face that I hadn't realized how much I missed until now. He was currently greeting Dylan and Justin by the kitchen island, introducing the girl standing beside him to his two friends.

The girl was rather petite with long, wavy golden hair that flowed down to her waist. She had a baby face with brown eyes and a slim mouth graced with bright red lipstick. Her sparkling silver shirt glittered in the light ostentatiously, glistening on to the walls and the ceiling. She instantaneously reminded me of a Barbie doll that I owned when I was little.

But, I had to admit, I was jealous.

Mason followed my gaze, sighing, "Don't let him get to you."

"I won't," I lied.

Both Mason and I knew Nathaniel's intentions, but I didn't expect myself to be so green-eyed. It wasn't because she was with Nathaniel – it was because she was beautiful. I hated her for her perfection.

"C'mon, let's get inside," Mason tried to guide me to the sliding glass door.

"I think we should stay out here," I mumbled, rolling back on my heels.

"You can't hide from him forever," Mason sighed. "Besides, I can see you shivering. It's too cold to be out here without a coat."

I knew he was right. "Fine."

We reentered the house, Mason skillfully pretending not to notice Nathaniel as we made our way to the couch. I, however, was much less covert and caught Nathaniel glance over at me out of my peripheral vision. His gaze landed on my face first, most likely wondering when I'd look over at him; when I did not, his eyes floated down to my elegant outfit. He looked the other way, then, down at his shoes, but I could see his cheek lift, evidently amused.

Robyn, Adam and Zach were settled on the sectional, Hawk curled up peacefully on the rug by their feet, and they smiled amiably as we sat down.

"So, Mason," Adam leaned back, wrapping his arm around his wife. "What do you do for a living?"

"I am a doctor up in Forks," He answered.

"Oh, is that where you and Scarlett met?" Robyn asked.

"No," Mason shook his head. "Scarlett and I have known each other since grade school. Actually, she was the one that pulled a few strings and got me a job at the hospital."

"That's so sweet!" Robyn twittered. "I swear you guys look so adorable together. It's like you were made for each other."

"I'd agree with you if Scarlett lived somewhere sunny," Mason laughed, reaching for the bowl full of chips on the coffee table.

"Oh, let it go," I rolled my eyes. "Mason's not too keen on living in Forks. Apparently, he has an obsession with sunlight."

"I wouldn't call it an obsession," He chuckled.

"Well, believe me, man," Adam laughed. "I've been living in one place my whole life. You don't know what I'd give to get out of it just for a little while."

"Ugh, no respect," I grabbed a chip and stuffed into my mouth.

"So, are you a Seahawks fan?" Zach wondered.

"Sorry," Mason shook his head. "No."

"But did you see the game last night?" Adam wondered. "I swear that was …" They kept talking but Robyn and I lost interest.

"Once they start talking sports, I give up," She said. I nodded in passive agreement. "So have you met Morgan?"

I presumed she was talking about the blonde.

I pretended I hadn't noticed. "Hmm?"

"Nathaniel's date," Robyn exhaled, leaning closer to me, looking over my shoulder at her. "To be honest, I don't like her all that much, and I'm the one that is supposed to be all bubbly and friendly with everyone."

"What's so bad about her?"

"Nothing is really _bad_ about her," Robyn shrugged. "Her personality is just a little too … up there for me. I mean, she has one of those nasally voices and talks about gossip tabloids and stuff. She's just not my type of person."

"Well, if Nathaniel likes her …"

"That's just it. I don't think Nathaniel likes her. I'm not really sure _what_ he's doing. He told me they met at the supermarket today and it was '_love__at__first__sight_.'"

"Hmm," I muttered again.

I could help but look over at them.

Nathaniel met my eyes, holding them for a long moment before looking away. He did not seem angry or upset – just blank, emotionless. I began to wonder, would this be the only look I was ever going to get from him from now on?

I just wouldn't be able to stand it.

When I turned back to Robyn, she whispered, "Does he look mad at you?"

"Well, he didn't scowl, so that's an improvement," I joked feebly, trying to laugh but failing horribly. "How long is it going to take for him to forgive me?"

"Last time I talked to him," She shrugged. "He seemed pretty willing to make amends, but I'm not quite sure what that face he's making now means."

"It means 'stay away,'" I interpreted.

"Oh, _please_," She suggested. "Nathaniel can't push you away for long – not even if he _tried_. Why don't you go up and talk to him privately? The other guys and I can keep Mason distracted …. Just go, you need to forgive and forget. If I see you guys like this much longer, I just might vomit."

"Thanks for the imagery," I sighed, standing.

"Where are you going?" Mason looked up, reaching for me.

"It's fine," I shook my head. "You stay here – I'll be right back."

"Alright," Mason replied reluctantly, Robyn pulling him into a conversation.

Nathaniel, I noticed, though he seemed interested in his friends' jokes based on expression alone, was struggling to interlock hands with Morgan. And it was not as if she was resisting him, but as if it were physically impossible – as if they were both polar magnets that naturally deflected one another. By the time I had reached the group, though, he had seemed to manage to wedge his thicker fingers in between hers; but he exhaled heavily and furrowed his brows as he caught himself up in the present conversation in order to participate, as if the minute action had physically exhausted him.

"Scarlett," Nathaniel cleared his throat as I approached, not even turning to face me – almost as if I were the topic of conversation instead of being invited into it. "I didn't even know you were here yet."

I nodded, "Uh-huh." I crossed my arms across my chest, shifting my weight so that I was closer to Dylan and Justin. In a sudden fear that the polar magnet mentality could also apply to me, I leaned back so that I was at equilibrium between Jacob and Dylan, perfectly centered and unaffiliated.

Morgan looked up between us in silent, hidden confusion. Poor girl – I wondered if she knew what she was getting her self into; and, if she did, she should've known better than to interfere with such a taut triangle.

"So, how are things with the wolf?" Nathaniel smiled halfheartedly, his eyes reclaiming their role as an impassive pit again. "I was telling Morgan that you had a little run-in with the beat a few weeks thing Mason was armed with his keys and I was had my gun, huh?"

"This is a party, Nathaniel," I tried my best to smile. "Let's not talk business."

Nathaniel grimaced, bringing his cup to his mouth and taking a long gulp.

"Well, since these two have unfortunately lost their manners," Dylan turned to the blonde, gesturing to Nathaniel and I. "This is Scarlett. Nate and her both have somewhat of a history but are too dense to admit it."

"We don't have history," Nathaniel snapped.

"Nate's right, Dylan," Justin sighed. "They both were too dense to even have history together, let alone admit it."

"Guys," I looked up at them.

"Right, right," Dylan put up his hands defensively. "That's our cue to shut up, but I just don't think it would be polite to keep Morgan out of these things. If she's going to be a part of Nathaniel's life she might as well get to know his friends."

"Scarlett is more of an acquaintance," Nathaniel shrugged.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Justin stopped me, which was probably a good thing. "C'mon, Nate, we're all friends here."

"Well, it's great to meet you," Morgan smiled, momentarily cutting the tension with her ignorance. Her voice didn't sound nasally like Robyn had described, but I could most definitely detect a certain conceited tone to her voice. "I love your …" – was I the only one that noticed she had to appraise me before she decided what to love about me? – "hair."

"Thank you," I tried to push the abhorrence in my throat back down.

We were all silent for a moment.

"Nathaniel, may I talk to you outside?" I wondered, stepping around him and walking onto the front porch.

"I'll be right back, sweetheart," He leaned down to kiss Morgan for a few concise seconds before reluctantly following me outside, shutting the screen door loudly shut behind him.

We briskly turned to face one another once completely alone, but, once in the position to speak, we had hardly anything to say. The dominant noises consisted of my breathing alone, whereas he stood there huffing angrily in his own silence; the slight patter of the rain was weak enough to overlook. It took me a few moments to realize that it was an apology that either of us was waiting for – though neither of us felt obligated to do so.

"Nice dress," Nathaniel said curtly. "By the look of you and Mason, I would guess this party is a little shabbier than what you're used to …"

I interrupted him sharply, "Why are we like this?"

"Like what?" He frowned, his voice lower.

"I thought we were friends." My dress billowed as I moved, making my motions look all the more exaggerated. "I don't know what happened to us."

He laughed quietly to himself. "Neither do I."

"I miss you, Nathaniel," I told him. "And, even if we aren't what you want us to be … would it kill you to just try and be my friend?"

"Didn't you get my message?" He wondered.

"Yes, I got it," I confirmed, adding heatedly, "But I'm tired of e-mail apologies. Why don't you come visit me, call me on the phone? I just can't stand not hearing your voice."

"Well …" He muttered, a faraway look in his eyes. "I'm in love with someone else now."

"Who? Morgan?" I smirked. "I never would've been able to guess."

"We have pretty passionate feelings for each other," He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"And when did those passionate feelings ignite?" I wondered, crossing my arms across my chest. "Over a gallon of milk at the Thriftway?"

"Actually, it was over a carton of eggs," He corrected matter-of-factly.

"Wow," I exhaled sarcastically. "Those must be some intense feelings, then. A moment you'll remember for the rest of your life, right?"

"Exactly," He glowered at me.

"Then I hope you remember this moment," I exhaled. "The moment where I tried to revive us … the moment where you officially decided you didn't want to have anything to do with me to any further extent."

"I decided that a long time ago," He mumbled.

"Well, don't expect me to be waiting around with open arms if you change your mind," I warned him. "Because I won't be."

I rushed around him, reaching for the door handle.

He stopped me. "Wait, Scarlett."

"You changed your mind a lot sooner than I thought you would," I exhaled, turning to face him again.

"I haven't changed my mind," He shook his head. "I feel something special with Morgan, but I still can't purge you from my life completely."

"Then come out and say it, Nathaniel," I sighed. "Apologize to my face."

He traced the wooden paneling with his foot. "Maybe you should go first. Since you committed the more serious crime."

I was agape.

"Fine, fine," He allowed. "I don't think sorry is the right word, though … at least not for this situation."

"Then what's a better term?" I raised an eyebrow. "'I'm an idiot' might suit you well here."

"Fine," He repeated. "Scarlett, I'm sorry."

"Now was that so hard?" I stuck out my lower lip.

"Your turn," He stared at me expectantly.

"What? I don't have to apologize," I shook my head. "I already apologized for not telling you that Mason was coming back. _You_ were the one that yelled at _me_."

"I still think you should apologize," He shrugged, and then adding, "For all the underlying pain you decided to cause me." When I threw him a riled look, he exhaled, "It's only fair."

"Fine, I'll apologize _again_," I exhaled. "Nathaniel, I'm sorry for whatever it is you think I should be sorry for."

"Good," Nathaniel smirked, thrusting open the front door for me. "Now can we get through the night without throwing loathsome glances at each other?"

I frowned, wordless, and stepped through the door.

Dylan and Justin had moved away from the door since we'd been out, and Morgan sat with legs crossed on the edge of the armchair, talking everyone's ear off about something or another; her listeners' faces were rather hysterical, trying to pretend they were listening but meanwhile sharing glances with little effort to hide their amusement. Mason and Adam's faces had to be the most comical – eyes down on the floor, in a feeble attempt to hide their laughter. I was happy to see that Mason was bonding with some of the Quileutes already.

"Well …" Nathaniel paused, scratching the back of his head nervously.

I brought my eyes back to him. "Well," I repeated after him.

"I hope you have fun with Mason tonight," He said finally.

"And I hope you have fun with Morgan," I returned the favor.

"Uh … Happy New Year," He shrugged.

"Right," I exhaled. "Happy New Year."

"You'll stay till the countdown, right?" He sighed.

"Probably, yes," I took a deep breath, leaving the conversation unfinished and going to sit down beside Mason. Nathaniel followed me slowly, sitting down beside Morgan and wrapping his arm around her.

"Oh, hey, honey," Morgan bubbled to Nathaniel, leaning against him as soon as he was there to lean against. "I was just telling them about my job."

"What do you do?" I asked, begrudgingly trying to make conversation.

"I'm the editor of a local magazine in San José," She replied eagerly.

"And what on earth would you be doing in Forks, then?" Mason asked theatrically, making me smile. He began to rub my back, trying to calm my nerves.

"Oh, it's a very _fairytale_-esque story, actually." She ventured on a poorly-told account of her journey to this point in time, consisting of "likes" and "ums" galore, beginning with her mother's "obnoxious" request to visit her step-sister in Seattle and openly ending with her long, drawn-out conversation with a homeless man at the airport in attempt to get directions. "If I hadn't missed my exit, I would have never driven straight into Forks" – (mind you, it's quite difficult to incidentally find Forks without any prior knowledge of its existence) – "and found my sweetheart. I guess it was _destiny_."

"That's right," Nathaniel nodded, glancing into the kitchen. I followed his gaze to see Dylan hurling him a nasty stare – result of a fight, I guessed. "I've never loved anyone like I love Morgan."

"Aw, you're so sweet," Morgan placed a fat kiss on Nathaniel's cheek.

When the two weren't paying attention, Robyn childishly stuck out her tongue at them, but popped it back in when they pulled away from each other and looked at all of us. Adam couldn't help but laugh.

"So, why don't we turn on Channel 9," Tommy, who had been standing by Dylan and most likely felt the irritation radiating off of him, waltzed over to the couch and sat on the arm. "I hear they have a pretty cool pre-countdown listing all the bests of the year."

"_Anything_ but this," Dylan rolled his eyes, sitting on the floor by my legs.

"You're just jealous, Dylan, that you aren't lucky enough to have Morgan," Nathaniel teased with a chuckle, meaning for it to be a joke.

No on laughed.

Dylan rolled his eyes and muttered, "_Jealousy_."

Robyn turned on the television, then, before another vulgar comment could be said, and, by and by, the heavy mood lifted and everyone was laughing with each other again. Morgan, however, seemed horribly out of place – she sat there uncomfortably as the Quileutes went on about fishing trips and town activities. She hardly participated in any of the conversation.

Anticipation inflated as midnight grew closer.

Around eleven-fifty, I stood and headed for the porch, going to get drinks for me and Mason.

Once outside in the fresh air, I exhaled.

Things were going better than I had hoped – not fabulously, but better than I had hoped. Granted, Mason and Nathaniel hardly talked, but they weren't trying to rip one another's heads off, so I considered the night a positive rather than a negative thus far. I just wished the whole ordeal had not begun in the first place – it simply complicated everything.

I had to understand that in a world where love existed, bedlam had to be off somewhere waiting in the wings.

I was staring dazedly into the wood when I heard the glass door slide open and then click shut again.

"Hi, Scarlett," Morgan's voice sighed.

I turned to look at her.

Her conceited tone seemed to have dissipated since just a few hours ago, distress taking its place. "Mason's a really nice guy," She shrugged, leaning against the banister. "You're lucky to have him."

"Uh," I was shocked by her sudden affability towards me. "Thanks …."

"I know I'm not the person you'd expect Nathaniel to be with," She looked over at me, her flat blue eyes ample. "I can tell by the way everyone is looking at me that I don't fit in here."

"No, no," I tried, able to tell that she was considering jumping ship. "Everyone is just adjusting to you. I think you two make really nice couple," I lied through my teeth.

"You think so?" Her cheeks lifted as a small smile crossed her face.

"Of course," I nodded, lying again. "I bet everyone will love you once they get to know you."

"Hmm, I guess you're right," She shrugged, a hint of poise returning to her expression. "Hey, I hope this isn't too personal, but what's up with you and Nathaniel? I could tell the vibe was pretty tense."

"Um, our _vibe_ is okay, I think," I leaned against the banister, as well. "He just really liked me a couple weeks ago and now he hates me. It's really confusing. But I think he's all yours now."

"Oh," She crossed her arms across her chest, her blonde hair blowing in the wind. "Well, I don't know if I want him to be."

"What? Why?" I pushed off the banister. "He really likes you."

"No, he doesn't," She shook her head. "I can tell. He doesn't want to be with me. Ever since we got here, he's been staring at you … and you heard the way he was talking when you came up to us earlier. He was just trying to make you jealous by flaunting me off."

"I-I …" I didn't know what to say.

"Don't act like you haven't noticed," She sighed. "I can tell you like him, too. I'm Nathaniel's distraction and Mason is yours …"

I interrupted her, "No, he is not! I love Mason!"

"Sure you do," She frowned. "Try telling that to him instead of me."

"I have told him," I put my hands on my hips.

"Well, that's good," She sighed. "I hope you two have fun together. But I think you should know that Nathaniel has one of those crushes on you that will last forever. He won't give up."

I wanted to yell at her, but I couldn't find the voice.

I knew she was right. "I know."

"Then maybe you should do something about it before it gets out of hand," She suggested. "And I won't be in your way."

"What do you mean?" I wondered.

"I'm going back home tomorrow," She smiled, grabbing a Pepsi out of the cooler. "And I'm leaving Forks tonight."

I exhaled. "At least stay until the countdown."

"I will," She shrugged. "It would be mean of me not to stay for the classic New Year's kiss. Besides, Nathaniel is a pretty good kisser … you should know."

"We haven't kissed," I muttered.

"He already told me you have," She waved her hand carelessly.

"Well, it was against my will," I informed her.

"That, I'll believe," She sighed. "Nathaniel seems like one of those guys that would do anything to get what he wants."

"Well, then you better watch out," I sighed, heading back into the house. "Because you're what he wants now."

She rolled her eyes at me, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Let's get inside before Nathaniel starts to worry about you."

I was about to respond, but I held my tongue, tempted to hit her across the face but having better self-control than that. We both walked back into the house, Morgan hurrying in front of me to get to Nathaniel side. My eyes scanned the couch but Mason was no longer sitting there. Instead, he was sitting patiently at the dinning room table, waiting for me to come back in.

I hadn't even put one foot inside before Mason was in front of me, pushing me back out onto the porch and shutting the door behind us.

"What?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing," He shrugged. "I just want to spend some time alone with you. Is that too much to ask of my future bride?"

"Not at all," My lips parted slightly.

He took my hand and led me down the porch steps into the backyard – well, what could've been called a backyard. The tree line was close to us; the patch of grass on which we stood now was no man's land, sitting between the woodlands and the house. Mason wrapped one arm around my waist, pressing me up against him, and held our intertwined hands in the air at about shoulder height.

"You aren't going to make me dance with you, I hope," I exhaled.

"Oh, why not?" He said, lifting my idle hand and placing it on his shoulder.

Then his hand floated back to my waist, holding my hip gently in his grasp. There was no music to dance to, but Mason didn't seem to mind at all. He swayed back and forth to the inaudible melody; his eyes were closed but mine were open, mainly because I thought that if I closed my eyes he would vanish. After a few silent moments of dancing in the grass, he took a deep breath.

"What do you think of the summer?" He asked aimlessly.

"Summer? I guess it's nice."

"Lots of sunshine, right?" He sighed, opening his eyes.

"Not lots, at least not here," I shrugged.

"No, there is lots of sunshine," He paused. "In other places."

"Oh, yeah, I guess," I looked down at my feet, afraid I'd step on his.

"What do you think of … oh, I don't know," He exhaled. "Hawaii?"

"Hawaii?" I stopped dancing. "You're kidding, right? I'm not moving to …"

"Who ever said anything about moving there?" He pulled me back into the dance, closing his eyes gently again.

He didn't say anything more for awhile, making me curious.

"Well, if you don't want to move there," I sighed into his chest. "Why else would you bring it up?"

He opened his eyes again. "A wedding in Hawaii would be beautiful."

My mouth fell open, but then I clamped it shut again.

"Don't you think so?" He chuckled, leaning forward and kissing me on the forehead.

"Sure, it'd be … beautiful, I suppose," I stuttered. "But …"

"But what?" He pushed my hair out of my face with his fingertip.

"But … but the sun," My eyes shot down to my feet again.

"What is with you and sun?" He smirked. "Are you allergic to daylight?"

"No," I said with a tone that made it sound like it was positively obvious. "But … well, I think our wedding should be in Forks."

"I don't," He shook his head. "We don't have to move, but the least we can do is get away from the clouds for our wedding day."

"Why?" I leaned back, grinning.

"Don't you think it's an omen?" He frowned.

"I don't believe in that stuff," I shook my head.

"Oh, that's right. You're the girl that believes in fate," He laughed.

I paused to think. "But it'll be a good omen if we have it here in Forks. It'll be a symbol of us starting our lives together … here."

"Hmm," He sighed. "How about we talk about it later?"

"Alright," I shrugged, leaning closer and placing a kiss on his lips.

Once we pulled away, he loosened his grip on me. "Spin."

I tried my best to do as he'd instructed without hurting myself or him, and I would say it was a pretty successful attempt. He laughed once I pulled back in.

"I thought I did pretty well," I pouted.

"You did fantastic," He mused with a smirk. "You're like my tiny dancer."

"I should go professional," I joked.

All of sudden loud, excited shouts came from inside the house as everyone began to countdown along with the television set. "Ten, nine, eight …!"

"This was a good year," I decided.

"One of the best," He agreed.

"Seven, six, five …!" Everyone continued to shout.

"Guess what?" He chuckled.

"Four, three, two …!"

"What?" I wondered.

"I love you," He leaned in and placed a kiss on my lips, his hand getting knotted in my hair.

"One! Happy New Year!" Everybody exclaimed.

"I love you, too," I pulled away from his kiss to let him know.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. He held me in his grasp tightly, tighter than he ever had – he held me with the mindset that if he ever let go, I wouldn't be there to grab back onto. I wanted to pull away, to tell him – just so he could hear it said aloud – that I would always love him and never go away … but some part of me figured that he already knew this and didn't have to be told; the ring on my finger was message enough.

As he held me close, I looked over his shoulder up above us. The trees were looming into some of the picture, but I could still see the night sky – and, surprisingly enough, there were no clouds to cover the stars. The moon emerged from behind the treetops into the tiny little clearing behind the house, overlooking the entire atmosphere, looking down on Mason and me.

My eyes then fell down through the stratosphere to level ground; and looking into Robyn and Adam's house, a pair of heartbroken eyes met mine. There he stood, his face strewn with various emotions, watching me with the most inconsolable look. If I hadn't assumed he still had feelings for me before, I knew it now – it was written all across his face, across his eyes; and I couldn't deny it much longer. I knew Nathaniel loved me, and there was obviously nothing I could do to make him feel otherwise.

Mason's lips grazed my jaw, snapping me back to him, and then caressed my skin, up my cheek to my ear. "Do you know what I've decided, Juliet?"

I smiled halfheartedly. "What?"

"Star-crossed lovers are overrated," He chuckled, rubbing my lower back sweetly. "Doomed love never really appealed to me."

"But doomed love makes everything all the more interesting," I protested with a laugh.

He smirked, pulling back so he could see my face. "Well, I'm no Romeo – and I'm not sure I want to be – but I don't think it's all that fun."

"Are you kidding?" I pulled his face towards mine, cradling his head in my hands. "Doomed or not, love is never fun."

"So, this love isn't fun for you?" He smirked, laughing silently to himself under his breath. "Because it is for me … actually more funny than fun."

"Well, I'm glad I amuse you," I shrugged.

Mason smiled widely, placing a short kiss on my lips and then pulling away. His expression coming out was much different than it had been coming in – it looked almost pained now, forlorn.

"I've finally found you," He whispered.

"I've been waiting, Romeo," I murmured in response.

The party didn't go on much longer.

By twelve-thirty, half of the partygoers had gone home – Shane left with the vendor from the movie theater, Zach took Tommy home and Dylan had departed soon after. Nathaniel was sitting on the couch, however, when Mason and I came inside. Something that caught my eye, though … was that he was alone.

I wanted to go over and ask him what had happened, but Mason led me over to the island instead where Robyn and Adam stood with Hawk at their heels.

"Well, I hope you guys enjoyed the party," Robyn smiled. "Looks like Adam and I will be stuffing ourselves with hors d'oeuvres for the rest of our lives – we've got enough to feed an army."

"People these days," Adam exhaled jokingly. "They come to these things with all the drama but only half the fat of a regular celebration."

"So …" I sighed, leaning against the counter, lowering my voice so only those within a one foot radius could overhear. "Where's blondie?"

"Ugh, she left," Adam whispered to us.

Then Robyn added, "And in a huff."

"Maybe I should talk to him," I turned towards the living area.

Mason pulled me back. "Maybe you shouldn't."

"Mason's right, Scarlett," Adam exhaled. "Nate isn't in the happiest of moods and, even though most of the time he would kill just to talk to you, you are probably the last person he wants to see right about now."

"Why?" I raised an eyebrow.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Robyn shrugged, frowning. "Besides, I'm sure Nate will give you an earful about it later."

"If he wants to talk to me …." My voice trailed away.

Mason wrapped his arm around me. "He'll come around."

"I hope so," I frowned, reaching forward and grabbing a chip out of the bowl on the counter. "I hate when he's mad at me."

"What's he even mad at you for?" Adam wondered.

"Long story," I shrugged, then adding, "Which I thought he would've told you by now."

"Nate's been kind of aloof lately," Adam sighed.

"He hardly talks to any of us anymore," Robyn told us. "He only gave us a brief summary of what's going on between you two."

Then Adam added, "And most of it was how much he hates you." He gestured towards Mason. "No offense intended."

"None taken," Mason nodded. "I'm used to it."

"Usually he tells you guys everything," I mused.

"Like we said," Adam shrugged. "He's just not himself."

"You know, now that you say that, Adam," Robyn bit her lip. "Maybe Scarlett should talk to him. I hate seeing Nate this way."

"We all do," Adam allowed, but then he shook his head. "But I think we all know better than to fight fire with a romance novelist, right?"

"If anything," Mason kissed my temple. "Can it wait until tomorrow?"

"Sure, I guess," I yawned. "We should be getting home."

"Well, I'm glad you both could make it," Robyn gave us both quick hugs. "I hope we can get together again sometime. Once the weather warms up, we were talking about having another day at the beach."

"I don't understand how you can go to the beach here," Mason exhaled, grabbing our jackets off the kitchen table and helping me put mine on. "Beaches are supposed to be hot and sunny, not damp and gloomy."

"After your body adjusts to the freezing water, it has all the amenities of your average beach," Robyn giggled. "All you have to do is close your eyes and forget where you are."

"I'll give it a shot," Mason allowed.

"Hey, man, do you surf?" Adam asked Mason.

"I've tried, I've failed," Mason replied with a smirk.

"In that case, a lesson is in order," Adam exclaimed.

"Oh, give it a rest, Adam," Robyn shook her head. "He's always been crazy about opening up a surf shop down on the water's edge that offers lessons."

"It's better than waiting tables up in Port Angeles," He shrugged.

"Well, I'll have to give the teacher a call," Mason laughed.

"See you guys soon," Robyn smiled, opening up the front door for us.

"Bye, Robyn," I grinned, giving her a hug.

I glanced over at Nathaniel one last time before heading out the door. He'd been looking at me, but he didn't want to risk our eyes meeting so he turned away as soon as I gazed over.

Shaking my head, I followed Mason out the door and headed over to the Volvo. Adam and Robyn stood in the front doorway, but, since they were not dressed warm enough for the midnight chill, they slowly shut the door and walked back to the kitchen. Mason walked around to the driver's side, climbing in quickly and starting the car. I wasn't as quick – I was reaching for the door handle when I heard the front door creak open again.

"You're leaving without saying goodbye?" Nathaniel asked.

I turned to look at him.

Mason rolled down my window – it was too dark inside the cab for me to see his face, but I could hear his voice, "Do you need a minute with him?"

"Thirty seconds should be enough," I exhaled.

Mason rolled the window back up, hidden in the dark cab.

Turning back to Nathaniel, I noticed he'd left the porch and was a couple feet away from me.

"Goodbye," I gave him what he wanted.

"I'm sorry about everything," He shook his head.

"Wow," I was honestly surprised. "It had been so hard for you to apologize before, but now you seem more than happy to say it."

"Maybe that's because I mean it," He shrugged.

"Well, I accept your apology," I said. "Thank you."

He kicked a pebble of gravel and it bounced a few feet forward, clacking against all the other rocks in its path. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure," I allowed.

"Don't get mad or anything," He put up his hands defensively but then stuffed them in his pockets. "What did you say to Morgan when you two were outside together?" When I didn't respond at first, he added, "I'm just curious."

"Oh, well, she wasn't feeling very confident," I told him the truth, but carved some of the edges. "She didn't feel like you loved her enough."

"Hmm," He stared at the ground. "I did."

"I know, and I convinced her of that," I nodded.

"Uh-huh," He exhaled. "Yes, well, she wished us both luck."

"Luck for what?" I wondered, leaning against the Volvo.

"Our relationship," His eyes drifted up to me. "She's probably in Port Angeles by now, getting on the ferry for Victoria."

"Oh, no," My throat become constricted. "What have I done?"

"You didn't do anything," He reassured me. "I should've known better than to drag Morgan into this … into something that was already pretty screwed up to begin with."

"What do you mean?"

"I've really destroyed our friendship," Nathaniel stated. "And I've never felt guiltier for anything in my entire life. I've messed up things between you and me … between you and Mason."

I said nothing. Only the crickets answered him.

"And I thought that if I tried to distract myself with Morgan," He explained himself. "I'd be able to clean things up, you know? Except … that all kind of blew up in my face."

There was complete silence for a moment. The crickets didn't speak.

"One day … we'll look back at this and laugh," I offered.

"I don't think this is one of those times," He chuckled.

I shrugged, "I tried."

"I know you tried," He took a step closer. "And I'm glad you do. You've been trying to save us since the beginning, and I refused to listen to you."

"What about now?" I wondered.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to listen to me more often now?"

"Depends," He chuckled. "Who knows? Next week, you might do something that'll throw me off the edge again."

"I'll try to refrain from throwing you off the edge," I promised. "… at least for another month or so."

He laughed animatedly. "Have a good night, Scarlett."

"You, too," I nodded. "And get some rest. You look really sleep-deprived."

"See what you've done to me?" He laughed, kicking the gravel again. "One sleepless night after another."

"Well, now everything's going to be okay, right?" I wondered.

"Yes," He agreed halfheartedly. "Everything will be great."

"That's just what I needed to hear," I sighed, climbing in the Volvo after waving one last goodbye to him.


	20. Chapter 17

Time passed, the minute hand ticking faster every day.

Before I knew it, four more weeks had slipped by and January was coming to a close. Fortunately, the weeks were completely uneventful – all the excitement had subsided, and our natural routines were finally setting in.

Nathaniel called once or twice, just to check in. I was glad he did, and I knew he only did so to reassure me our friendship hadn't been totally murdered. He never visited, though, which Mason seemed to appreciate. I had given up all hope to try to bring the two together – the last thing I needed was for them to slaughter each other. Perhaps keeping them apart, I guessed, was the smarter thing to do. That way, there wouldn't be any unnecessary bloodshed.

On top of everything, Krista only got worse. Gradually, she stopped coming to work – and when she was there, she was often crying and moping, too distraught to get her work done. I came into work one morning, surprised to find that Krista wasn't there waiting at her desk to greet me like usual – later on that day, Coop told me that she had quit her job, unable to take it anymore. I had to admit, I wasn't surprised. All of us knew she could not have lasted much longer.

As her friend, I wanted to comfort her; as her colleague, I was worried that this whole Asher ordeal would eventually drive her to crazier things than quitting; and as a eyewitness of all this madness, I wanted to run off to wherever Asher was, slap him across the face and drag him home kicking and screaming whether he liked it or not. If he only knew how much pain he was causing his mother, maybe Asher would come back willingly. Or maybe he was too afraid of facing his mistakes to even consider.

However, I restrained myself from dwelling on that subject any longer. Asher would ultimately discover that leaving was the wrong decision and come home to his family where he belonged – I just hoped that he would figure this out sooner than later … at least before his mother became suicidal.

Coop's sister, Anna, came up from New Mexico to visit in those couple of weeks, as well. She looked so much like Coop it wasn't even funny; their hair was both the same auburn hue with the same tint of blackish-brown, and they both had the same fair complexion – Anna was a bit tanner, though, considering her lodging in the south. Their mannerisms were practically identical, too; they both had the same laugh, the same smile.

The only difference had to be their eyes – Coop's were bright green, so bright you might assume they could glow in the dark; but Anna's eyes were hazel, a bit more brown than they were green. Altogether, though, they could've been twins.

As for Mason and me, our established schedule was beginning to seep into our skin, becoming more and more a part of us everyday. Each morning, I would awaken to find Mason beside me (he had now made a promise with himself that he _need_ed to be by my side every time I opened my eyes; rarely could I find an empty space of rumpled covers where he was supposed to be, nowadays) and we would get ready for work together, he would make breakfast – with the dock blaring, of course – and we would head off to work.

My favorite aspect of the routine had to be the appreciated lack of microwavable meals. Mason was on official kitchen duty now; we'd made a pact that I wouldn't cook for the rest of my life, mainly to avoid the plausible risk of blowing up the house or accidently killing off any guests. I didn't protest this pact, though – I was actually happy about it. Every meal now felt like eating out, but I guess everything tasted better when it wasn't you that made it.

So, on the morning of the first of February, I awoke to see Mason sound asleep beside me. He was lying on his side, his arm wrapped around his pillow from underneath. His lips were in a flat line and he breathed lightly, practically inaudible, deep in a comatose sleep.

I smiled, leaning forward.

I kissed him gently, pulling away only seconds afterwards. His eyes flickered open slowly, his mouth curving into a smirk.

"That was possibly the best wakeup call I've ever gotten," He chuckled.

"Hmm," I sighed. "If only we didn't have to wake up."

"Reality awaits," He exhaled jokingly, pushing back the covers and swinging his feet down onto the floor. He sat there on the edge of the bed for a little while, rubbing his eyes and adjusting to the temperature.

"Well, reality can wait a little longer," I pulled the covers over my head.

"Hey, do you know what today is?" He asked, walking over to the desk and glimpsing over at the calendar that hung on the wall.

"The first," I answered.

"Yes," He nodded. "And do you know what is in two weeks?"

"The middle of February?" I sighed.

"Valentine's Day, to be exact," He corrected me.

I peeked out from my fortress under the covers at him, only to find him gazing lovingly back at me – his expression was sweet, innocent.

I repeated what he'd said slowly. "Valentine's Day."

"What can be more romantic than Valentine's Day?" He asked rhetorically.

I answered, nonetheless. "Nothing, I suppose."

"What can be more romantic than our wedding on Valentine's Day?" He mused. I could see the wheels in his head turning as he thought.

"That's a little soon, don't you think?" I sat up in bed, stretching.

"You think we should wait?" He walked into the closet.

"No, I don't think we should wait," I shrugged, climbing out of the bed hesitantly, like a bear awakening from hibernation. "I just mean … Valentine's Day is in two weeks. Don't weddings take months to plan? Is that enough time to prepare everything and get invitations out …?" I stopped.

"I've got it covered," he smiled, emerging from the closet with his clothes in hand.

I said nothing.

A long time passed silently. "Unless you'd like to wait," He shrugged.

"Whatever you feel like doing, I guess," I sighed, running my hand through my hair as I walked out into the hallway.

He followed me, wrapping his arms around me. "How about March?"

"Like I said," I stepped out of his grasp. "Whatever you want to do is fine with me."

He followed me into the bathroom. "I'm thinking March 17th."

"March 17th sounds good," I agreed, standing in front of the mirror.

I looked up at my reflection in the mirror, impressed by what I saw …. Not by my own reflection, but by the marvelous being behind me. I looked exactly the same as I always had in the mornings: matted hair, drooping eyes, and, let's not forget, infamous purplish bags that looked like bruises underneath my drooping eyes.

But Mason was a sight to see.

He reminded me of those faultless paintings of angels that cover the walls of ancient churches – a face that is too complex, too beautiful for the human mind to comprehend. It was obvious that God had been playing favorites when He created Mason; He must've gotten tired of creating so many average people that He decided to grace an exclusive amount of people with all the beauty, all the intelligence, all the magnificence that only a deity could approve of. There are only a handful of said people in this world today, and I was, sadly, not one of them.

Fortunately, however, one of these said people had so graciously decided to take me into their grasp – I guess God planted me with all the luck.

"Wow," I exhaled.

"What?" He rested his lips on my cheek.

"You're beautiful," I answered.

"Stop saying that," He shook his head, pulling away and walking back into the hallway, slowly shuffling towards the top of the stairs and lingering there, keeping his back to me.

"Why?" I shrugged with a laugh. "I cannot tell a lie."

"But it _is_ a lie," He sighed. "I'm not beautiful. I'm not perfect. I'm just … ordinary."

"I'm sorry, but you are far from ordinary," I sighed, leaning against the wall. "What is so bad about perfection, though? Being perfect doesn't sound so bad to me … and with beauty comes the power to manipulate, which is a pretty dependable talent if you ask me …"

He interrupted, "Manipulation is petty."

"But you do it all the time."

"Not intentionally," He walked back to me then, resting his palms against the wall on either side of my head. "I just don't want the charade to fool you."

"What charade?" I wondered.

"Are my looks the only reason you love me?" He interrogated. "With Madison, I knew we were both overwhelmed by the whole love of things and we tried to want each other when we had that feeling that it wouldn't work out in the end …. I can't let us be like that."

"What charade?" I repeated.

"I'm an affluent doctor with – supposedly – good-looks, supposed charm, supposed magnetism …" He replied finally, annunciating each word with the direst emphasis. "I don't want to say I'm better than anybody – because I'm not – but some people see me as superior to everyone else …. Not true."

"Well, you do have that magnetic quality," I agreed.

He laughed under his breath. "And you don't?"

"No," I couldn't have responded faster.

His eyebrows furrowed.

I exhaled, shrugging. "But you … you're well-rounded, you're intelligent, you're funny. The fact that your rich or good-looking doesn't matter."

He laughed, stepping back for a moment, but then placing his hands back on the wall where they'd been before.

"And is that why you love me?" He pronounced each word separately, as if it pained him to say them.

"Mmm, no," I shook my head, biting my lip.

"Then why do you love me?" He asked, his eyes pouring into mine. His face was strained, brooding.

"Because …" I couldn't find the words. "Well, I said I'd marry you, didn't I? That must mean something …"

He interrupted, "But why did you say yes? … Was it in fear that saying no would make me hate you?"

"No," I responded quickly, wanting to get that vulgar thought out of his head as soon as possible. "I love you because I love you. There is no rhyme or reason to it."

He paused for a long moment, thinking.

"See, that is what I admire about all of this."

"All of what?" I wondered.

"This," He bent closer but then froze only a few centimeters from my face. "There is no rhyme or reason to anything … and it makes me feel …."

When he didn't continue, I searched his eyes. "What do you feel?"

"That's just it," He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Indescribable, right?" I held his face in my hands.

"Irrepressible," He leaned forward, kissing me, but only briefly.

He pulled away quickly. "I can't believe how weak you've made me."

"What do you mean?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Before I came to this place, to your arms, I felt untouchable," He sighed. "Like no one could ever understand me or understand how I feel … but you are like my saving grace. You snatched me up right before I hit the bottom …"

I was silent.

"For the first time, I've met someone so unintentionally lifesaving that …" He paused to find the right words. "I don't think I'll ever be able to find a suitable way to repay you."

Smiling, I leaned forward kissing him for only a moment.

"Well, there is one way you can repay me," I shrugged.

"Name it," He smiled.

"Stay with me forever," I exhaled.

"Now, that's a promise I can keep."

We were off to work in no time.

Coop was there waiting to pull Mason away and drop a stuffed manila folder onto my desk by the time we got there. It was nice to have Mason around. At work, I mean. All he had to do was throw me a comforting smile as he walked by or smirk over at me while he was talking to one of the nurses – and that alone could help me build up enough vigor to survive until the day ended.

The end came hesitantly, though.

By lunch, I had become used to the fact that today would just be one of those days. I was compiling a bunch of papers when a bell rang in the distance – it wasn't like chimes, but jarringly annoying. The closer the noise got, I finally was able to identify it. It was a siren …

An ambulance's siren.

I never liked that sound, and no one ever should. The siren got incredibly loud just before it died out, that's when I knew it had arrived. Minutes later, a handful of EMTs dashed hurriedly out of the elevator, crowding a stretcher. They ignored me completely, rushing down the side hallway to a room. I saw Coop run up to them immediately, asking no questions and following the stretcher through the door.

I was curious, of course; it was human nature to be. However, I stayed put, fighting the urge to get up and ask someone what was going on. About twenty minutes after the stretcher had rushed in, Mason strolled out of the same room that all of the bustle had been in. His fists were deep in his pockets and he frowned furiously at the laminate floor. He slowly made his way down the hallway, resting his elbows on the countertop when he eventually got to me.

He exhaled, rubbing his temples.

"You look flustered," I commented.

"I am very, very flustered," He sighed.

"Why?" I wondered. "What's going on?"

"I hate this," He shook his head, burying his face in his palms. It was a long time before he spoke again, and I waited patiently. "I hate when this happens. It just reminds me that happiness doesn't last forever."

I stood. "It does for us."

"No, it doesn't," He frowned. "It can't last."

"What are you saying?" I sat back down.

He pulled his hands away from his face, scanning my expression. Then he surprised me by laughing, "I'm not breaking up with you, if that's what you were thinking."

"I wasn't thinking that," I lied.

But I was only thinking that for a moment.

Nonetheless, when he used the words "I hate this" and "happiness doesn't last forever" and "it can't last," what was I supposed to think? Those are breakup lines, for sure … but I knew he was just frustrated, so I didn't protest in any way, no matter what my subversive thoughts interpreted his words to mean.

"There she goes …" He whispered distantly, mainly to himself. He stared at the countertop, a faraway look in his eyes. "Sometimes … as a doctor … you feel like you can see the soul floating away. She never did anything to anyone … but yet … there she goes all the same."

"Someone died," I concluded.

"Teenager …" He looked down at his hands as if answers were to be written all over them in plain ink. "She was out in her friend's backyard when the beast just jumped out and attacked her. Nowhere is safe anymore …."

With wide eyes, I guessed, "The wolf."

"First the teenager in La Push, then that married couple," He frowned, looking down at the floor. "Now this. I wish they would just kill the damn thing."

I nodded comprehendingly.

"It was right here," he ran if fingertip from his shoulder across his chest and down to his waist. "She didn't even have time to react … no time to scream …. I just hate this. These moments make me want to quit my job …" He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I didn't say anything.

"Why would anyone want to become a doctor?" He asked rhetorically.

"To help people," I reached out and placed my hand on his.

"Only to see all their hard work go wasted," He sighed. "We could've saved her. We could've helped her … if only she'd gotten to us sooner."

There was a long pause before either of us spoke.

I reminded him, "There's nothing we can do about it now."

"Scarlett, it was in town," His voice was pained as he said the words, as if he didn't want to believe them. "It was near the house …. I just wouldn't be able to live with myself if you were next. I wouldn't be able to survive."

"It's not going to be me …" I sighed.

He interrupted, "But what if it is? I can't lose you."

My eyes fell to the floor, my mind racing.

_Death_, my thoughts burned. For most of us, it seems far away, out of reach. Like a star – we could look up at that night sky all we wanted, but no matter how long we stared, that star would never get closer. However, with the wolf killing more and more frequently, attacking and seldom leaving a victim spared … _never_ leaving a victim spared …

Death had the capability of burning that star until it had no choice but to plummet, swallowing itself whole … a heinous supernova that felt no vacillation; and now that it was getting closer and closer, what was there to do? Run from it? Hide from it? I knew what the answer was, but I didn't want to accept it …

Face it head on.

Mason's cool touch on my forehead calmed me; I just then realized that I suddenly became clammy – I felt nauseous.

"I won't let that happen to you, alright?" It was as if he knew those words were exactly what I wanted to hear. Those words gave me immediate clarity, but not complete sanity.

"Alright," I nodded.

"Are you okay?" I pushed my hair out of my face.

I told him what was on my mind. "Death doesn't look fun."

He chuckled under his breath, leaning close to me. "It never is."

Mason placed a kiss on my lips, bringing me away from the plunging black hole and back to contentment, composure. However, I knew it wasn't that easy – this wolf debacle wouldn't just go away out of thin air. I knew it was something we were all going to have to deal with.

"Just let it go," He encouraged me with a smile. "Death is far away for us, far away from you."

I tried to believe him, but qualm was still pulling at me.

"Being mauled by a wolf is no way to go," He shrugged with a laugh, placing kiss on my lips before adding, "Apparently dying old and gray with the person you love is the trend now."

"Really?" I appreciated his comedic attempts to lighten my mood.

"Yeah," He smiled. "Immoral destruction is so overrated."

"You think a lot of things are overrated," I noted, laughing. "It seems like you disagree with _Romeo__&__Juliet_ on everything."

"Shakespeare and I don't see eye to eye," He admitted.

"Well, rumor has it that it is extremely romantic to die young in the place of someone you love," I sighed. "I think Romeo was pretty heroic."

"Yes, well, Romeo's an idiot," He chuckled.

"How so?" My eyebrow rose. "You better have some good reasons for insulting one of the most renowned lovers of all time."

"Hmm," Mason leaned forward, placing a long kiss on my lips before smirking, "Move over, Romeo. Juliet is _mine_ now."

I smiled, sitting back down in my chair.

Coop came up to us then, hair ruffled and eyes bloodshot. I found it rather interesting that both he and Mason could become so horribly exhausted in a matter of minutes; I guess all it took was a weighty matter to grow so out of it that you felt sick.

"Well," Coop exhaled. "For such a small town, you would think that the Angel of Death would overlook us."

"Turns out we're a magnet," Mason frowned.

"Oh, hold on," Coop laughed flatly, his tone saying that he knew right well that none of this was funny. "It gets even better. I swear the irony is becoming a little too much for me."

"What now?" I stood again, leaning against the counter.

"Take a wild guess. Who do you think the teenager was?" He rested his elbow on the counter and held his head against his balled fist. "You'll never guess it … well, maybe you will, considering this family just adorns themselves with as much bad luck as they can handle …"

Mason interrupted, intolerant, "Just tell us, Coop."

"Her name starts with a 'G,'" He told us, his eyes searching our clueless, empty faces before continuing. "Ends with an Emma."

I didn't want to say the words. "Gemma Elliot."

Coop pointed at me. "Uh-huh."

"No," I didn't want to believe it. "No, this can't be happening. Gemma can't be dead. This'll kill Krista."

"I know," He sighed. "That's why we can't tell her."

"This is the last thing she needs," Mason looked down at the floor.

"Okay, this is not something to joke about," I was incredulous, utterly disgusted by the way they were speaking. "You can't just not tell a mother that her daughter was torn to bits by some lethal monster …"

"I'm not saying that we keep this a permanent secret," Coop explained himself. "Picture this. Two cops show up at Krista's doorstep, she gets all excited thinking that they've found Asher, only to find out that her daughter is gone. Do you want this woman to be stripped of every child she has at once?"

"You know, he's right, Scarlett," Mason shrugged. "This could be just the thing to drive Krista crazy. She might go so deep that she'll feel she has nothing left to live for."

I shook my head. "I can't lie to her."

"Hey, wait," Coop leaned against the counter. "Maybe we _should_ tell her."

"Finally, some sense," I fell back into my chair.

"No, instead of having some cop go tell her," Coop decided. "Why don't you tell her, Scarlett? If it comes out of your mouth, maybe it'll be better. Besides, you're her best friend, and I think she rather have your shoulder to cry on than some big burly officer's …"

I interrupted, "You can't seriously be suggesting this."

"It could be better for Krista," Mason agreed.

"Are you seriously going to make me go to my best friend and tell her the only child she has left is dead?" I exploded. "I don't know about you, but it's not my job to just willingly put my head under the guillotine!"

"It's your job as a friend," Coop exhaled.

"But, I …" I tried to protest, but I knew this battle was unwinnable. I tried one last attempt to get out of it, "Please, don't make me do this. She'll probably never want to see me again if I'm the one that tells her."

"I doubt that," Coop shook his head.

"Scarlett," Mason leaned over the counter and looked deeply into my eyes. "I think that Krista wouldn't want to have anyone else tell her. Moreover, think about her situation – she needs you now more than ever."

I knew they were right, and this was the only way that I would be able to show Krista that I was here for her. Of course, I didn't want to do it, but it was something that I had to do. I felt guilty for not freely agreeing to do this; I was just as thick as I had been three years ago when Cristina asked me to live with her. I was only thinking about what I wanted when a friend needed my help.

Now, not only did I have to do this, I _needed_ to.

"Coop," Mason pushed off the counter and looked over at him. "Is it okay if I take off the rest of the day? I'm not sure how much more of this I can take."

"Hmm, I'll allow it this time," Coop sighed. "I know how you feel; I would love to go home right now. But there are always complications when dealing with this type of things. I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Doc," Mason nodded.

"I'll see you on Monday," Coop clapped his hand on Mason's shoulder before turning and walking away.

"Sorry I'm ditching you," Mason apologized, leaning against the counter again. "I just don't think I'll be able to stay even-tempered through the rest of the day. I've got enough unrequited thoughts floating around in my head already."

"It's okay," I sighed. "I understand."

He leaned forward, kissing my lips briefly. "You want me to pick you up?"

I shook my head. "I'll snag a ride with Coop."

"Alright," He pulled away from the counter, grabbing his jacket off the coat hanger by my desk.

"Hey, do you think you can stop by the supermarket?" I asked of him, walking around the counter and standing in front of him. "We are out of milk."

"Wow, you're asking me to buy milk," He slipped on his coat, chuckling. "I feel part of a married couple already. Where's the grocery list?"

"On the fridge," I reminded him.

"Okay, I'll head out to the store later," He wrapped his arm around my waist. "I'll see you," He paused to kiss me. "Tonight. And tonight, we are going to have that date you owe me."

"Our 'seventeen again' date?" I smiled.

"It is imperative," He nodded.

"Oh, imperative, eh?" I laughed.

"Most definitely," He said, letting go and heading for the stairwell.

"Bye," I waved. "I love you."

"See you tonight," He grinned widely, opening the door and heading down the steps. I watched him until the door swung shut.

And then he was gone.


	21. Chapter 17, pt 2

"I changed my mind," I played with my fingers anxiously.

Coop's hands tightened on the wheel as he drove. It was already dark out, the wind blowing the trees malevolently and rain pattering on the windshield. This was sure to be an undeniable recipe for disaster; even the weather agreed with me. We were now zooming down Route 101 to Port Angeles, Coop's constant speed of an illegal 70 mph telling me that he showed no intention of turning around.

"You can't change your mind," Coop shook his head.

"I can't tell Krista," I pulled my jacket's sleeves over balled fists. "I'm sorry, but she'll just have to settle for a police officer's shoulder to cry on. I don't have the backbone for this kind of thing."

"It's easy," He tried to calm me down.

"It's not easy," I denied.

"Four simple syllables," He glimpsed away from the road and over at me. "_Your_ _daughter_ _died_. After you say that, there is nothing more to say."

I stared forward at the road.

"And if you want to seem compassionate," He shrugged. "Maybe even six syllables. _Krista,__your__daughter__died_."

"Saying her name won't make me seem compassionate," I exhaled. "I can dress it up all I want, but the words are raw and I can't change that … who knew that three simple words jumbled up in the right order can be so terrifying, so life-changing … and you're making me say these words …"

Coop interrupted, "Scarlett, don't try to get yourself out of this by using all that sentimental voodoo crap that writers use just to sound profound."

"I'm not trying to sound profound," I protested. "I'm trying to make you see that you're giving me a task that I don't think I'm capable of doing."

"Toughen up," He rested his right elbow on the center console, watching the yellow lines mechanically. "Forget about Krista, forget it's even Krista we're talking about. I'm starting to think that you should do this for your own benefit."

"How can this be beneficial?" I wondered.

"Answer this," Coop coached. "Let's say Mason died …"

"Don't even say that," I snapped, my words crashing out of my mouth and onto my lap. I didn't even want to consider that as a possibility.

"Hear me out for a second," His grip on the steering wheel tightened so much that his knuckles turned white. "Let's say Mason died, and I knew it before anyone else did, but I decided not to tell you."

"I think I would notice," I mused.

"I think Krista would notice too if Gemma didn't come home too," He said.

I said nothing in reply; he'd caught me.

"Instead, let's say unemotional, beady-eyed Donahue shows up at your door," He continued. "And he tells you that Mason was murdered by a huge wolf _and_ that I knew all along. What then, Ms. Know-it-all?"

"I would shoot you," I crossed my arms across my chest.

"A little extreme," Coop shrugged. "But, yes, that is probably how you would feel. And I'm sure that Krista would feel the same if she found out you and I both knew but decided not to tell her."

"Cops can be emotionless," I frowned. "They have the ability to just wipe all emotion from themselves. They can pretend not to care. However, I am an author … not just an author, I'm the author of _romances_. So, consequently, I have to be sentimental _for__a__living_." I paused for a rebuttal.

He didn't say anything.

"So, Dr. Cooper," I continued my rant. "You are telling the girl who has to be sentimental _for__a__living_ to tell my best friend the most tear-jerking news to date."

There was silence as we entered Port Angeles.

"I'm sure it's not the _most_ tear-jerking to date," He said, his voice small.

I could feel tears welling up in the pit of my core – I wasn't even sure why I was the one crying. "Well, it's up there on the list."

Coop turned into one of the small suburban neighborhoods just outside Port Angeles's main town. Both of us had been to Krista's house before, for a party or two. Her house was two-story, a relatively good size for a growing family … well, what were now the remains of a growing family. I always remembered the address as being warm and friendly; only now, with the foreboding dark weather and the horrifying news that lay in the back of my throat, preparing to be said, the house was far from welcoming.

He put it in park out front, not even bothering to park in the driveway. We sat in front of the home for at lest four minutes before Coop finally spoke.

"Well, get in there," He prompted.

I welled up every ounce of confidence there was on me and stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut behind me. I hurried up the walkway, tempted to break out into a run – however, despite my anxious speed, those few moments felt like they were in slow-motion. My mouth grew dry as I headed down the front walk and to the steps.

With one last fleeting glance at Coop, I rang the doorbell.

It was answered in seconds. Unfortunately for me, Krista answered it; I had been hoping that it would be Andy. With Krista, I was sure to get the crying gag – I wasn't quite sure if I'd be able to get through this without crying myself.

"Scarlett!" She welcomed me with a hug, looking healthier than she had in weeks. "Please, come in, come in!"

"Um, it's okay," My voice was frail. "I didn't come to stay."

"Oh, alright then," She shrugged, smiling. "How are you? How have you been doing? I've felt so disconnected since I've left the office."

"Disconnected," I repeated under my breath.

"So, what's going on?" Her grin was warm.

I swallowed. "I have something to tell you. Something … important."

Her face fell immediately, as if she instinctively anticipated bad news these days. "Tell me this first. Good or bad?"

"Um," I looked down at my feet. "Bad."

Krista looked around me and saw the running car in the street, recognizing it instantaneously. "That's Coop's car. Scarlett, what is going on?"

"I know, Asher is still missing," I intertwined my hands. "And I know that it's a lot for you to handle right now. I mean, you must feel so lost and heartbroken and … well … I don't know how to say this. I don't really know how to put it into words, let alone words that won't hurt worse, um …." I stopped.

She leaned against the doorway. "You're rambling."

I looked up from my feet.

"That's never good," She exhaled.

"She's gone, Krista," I just came out and said it. "She's gone."

"And by she, you mean …" She stopped. "Gemma."

"Yes, Gemma," I nodded.

"God," She exhaled, putting her hand to her head. "That girl had it all made for her and she was gonna have a good life, but she decided to run off and be stupid just like her brother. I bet it was with that boyfriend of hers …"

I interrupted, "No, Krista. She didn't run away."

"Then what do you mean?" She didn't understand.

My voice was quiet. "She's … she's _gone_."

"She's …" She paused for a moment, and then it all hit her dead-on.

Instantly, she broke down, her legs buckling and her knees crashing onto the concrete with a skid. Her sobs echoed throughout the neighborhood as she gasped for breath as if she were drowning. At the sound of her cries, Andy ran to the doorway, extending a hand out to his wife. As soon as he saw me standing there, he looked at me as if he already knew what had happened – or maybe he too had been so used to getting bad news, that after awhile it didn't matter what the bad news was … if it was bad news, that's all it was. Bad.

"My baby is dead!" Krista shrieked.

At the sound of her yearning cry, I heard a car door open and slam shut. Next thing I knew, Coop was at my side bending down to Krista.

"Krista, honey, Krista," He tried to comfort her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. We tried all we could."

"That's all you people ever do!" She screamed, recoiling away from his touch. "All you do is try and try! How about you actually do what you say you will once in awhile? How about you actually find my son and save my daughter's life for God's sake? All you people ever do is try, and that's not good enough!"

"Krista," Andy reached down to her.

I felt guilty for just standing there inertly, but I wasn't quite sure what to do. I had never really been good with sudden, heart wrenching moments.

"How?" She glared up at Coop and I.

"She …" Coop began but Krista stopped him.

"No, not you, Matthew," She frowned, tears pouring down her face. "I want Scarlett to answer. I want my friend to tell me."

My eyes retreated to Coop for help, but he handed me a blank stare in return. Then I glanced up at Andy, who was waiting as eagerly as Krista was. I looked at Krista next, the tears bottling up in my eyes as I watched her despairing expression. I felt the urge to burst, like a soda can that only be shook up so much until it explodes.

"She was attacked by the wolf …" I whimpered.

"Wolf," Krista repeated silently. She stopped struggling and she stopped screaming, her eyes falling on the front lawn. "My innocent baby girl was killed by a wolf."

"Yes," I nodded, letting a few tears escape.

"Wow …" Krista paused. "Thank God."

"What?" Coop's eyes widened. "You're glad?"

"I was thinking the worst," Krista said distantly, her eyes not looking at any of us. "I thought she was raped, I thought she was stabbed …." She stopped.

Coop was shocked. "She was mauled by a …!"

Andy interrupted him, "Dr. Cooper."

Coop's eyes shot to Andy's.

"It could've been worse," Andy emphasized each word, looking down at Krista as he said them. We knew he was giving us the cue to stop and go home.

Our mission had been accomplished.

And it was worse than I could have ever imagined. Krista's face, her shrieks and her tears were far more painful to witness than anything I pictured. What it would be like to feel how she felt, to hear what she heard … to feel a mother's pain at the loss of both her children. And the despondent tone she used at the end frightened me more than her hectic screams – I knew what it was too.

It was her transition from rational to irrational, sane to insane.

Coop rested his hand on my lower back, guiding me silently down the front walkway to the car. I couldn't tear my eyes away from Krista's heartbreaking look; I stared at her until the point where Coop helped me into the car and shut the door. With the tinted windows, I couldn't see her anymore. As soon as Coop got into the car, which was still running, he put it in drive and slammed on the gas, zooming down the street and back towards Route 101.

"She'll hate me," I predicted, letting the tears fall freely now.

"She'll be happy it was you and not someone else," He countered.

"I've just witnessed … my best friend lose everything," I sobbed quietly, my voice merely a mumble. "Whether I was the one that told her or not, it's still natural to feel culpable for everything that's happened to her."

"You shouldn't feel culpable," Coop denied, not going 70 miles an hour anymore, but still driving at a moderately fast speed. "You did the right thing in going to her, and you shouldn't feel anything less than relief."

"Relief? I'm supposed to feel relieved?"

"Yes," He nodded. "And I'm proud of you."

He reached over and rubbed the top of my hand briefly, then pulled away, putting both hands on the wheel and staring at the road.

"You're a good friend, Coop," I looked forward.

"Oh, _good_?" He said jokingly. "I would've thought I was classified as a _best_ friend. Excuse me if I'm wrong."

I hit him on the arm playfully.

"So, I thought I should clarify something with you," He began, looking over at me. Once my eyes where on him, he continued, "You love Mason … a lot. And I can see that you both love each other when you're together at work."

"Yes," I nodded, my voice sounded surreal – one of those dreamy, faraway tones lovers use when their so in love they're brainwashed. That wasn't me, of course; but I was getting closer to it everyday. "I really love him."

"So, then, what's next?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" I wondered.

"Well, I was just thinking that," He paused and started over. "Are you guys going to be just working together and living together for the rest of your lives?"

"You could say that," I looked away from him and out the window.

"You could say that?" Coop chuckled.

I said nothing.

"Care to elaborate?" He exhaled, laughing.

"We haven't really told anyone yet," I sighed. "But we're getting married."

"What!" Coop exploded in laughter, seeming to think it was a joke. After a few moments, though, he composed himself and continued, "No, no. I shouldn't have laughed – that was mean. But … you and Mason! That's great! I'm so happy for you both."

"You're happy?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You thought I'd be mad?" He countered.

"Well, I hadn't been thinking about it all," I shrugged. "Since I hadn't really planned on telling you tonight."

"I am thrilled," He chuckled. "You two will be like the … the, uh … oh, what's their names …"

I laughed as I watched him think.

"Ah," He remembered. "You'll be the Bella and Edmund of Forks."

"It's _Edward_, Coop," I sighed.

"Whatever," He waved his hand carelessly. "When's the wedding?"

"We're thinking March 17th," I sighed. "He wanted to do it on Valentine's Day, but I thought that would be too early …"

He interrupted, "Valentine's Day? God, Mason must be blinded by love for him to be as cheesy as to have his wedding on Valentine's Day."

"Yes, well, we're not having it on Valentine's Day," I shook my head. "But now I'm thinking even March 17th is too early. How about April? Oh, that would be nice. Forks is beautiful in the springtime. And the wedding is outside, so it'll be nice to have it warmer. Actually, maybe we should just push it to June …"

"Do you want to marry the guy or not?" He laughed.

"Of course!" I responded a little too eagerly.

"Then, if you're the Scarlett I know you are," He explained teasingly. "You two would be married by tomorrow morning."

"I guess you're right," I shrugged.

"I know I'm right," He corrected, and then elaborated, "Listen, you and Mason are practically untouchable. I mean, no matter what comes your way, you are like the invincible couple. So …?"

"So …?" I repeated after him.

"What's holding you back?" He asked.

"Nothing's holding us back," I replied. "Well, if there is, we can't see it. But … now that you mention it, there is that elephant in the room and that elephant is blocking the only door … the door to the chapel, the altar."

"And who do think is blocking that door?" Coop stared forward.

He'd said it discretely, but I had caught it nonetheless; as a matter of fact, it was the word that stood out to me the most: he had said _who_ instead of _what_. Almost immediately, I knew what picture was in his head.

"Nathaniel's not a problem," I frowned.

"Did I say anything about Nathaniel?"

"No, but you're thinking about it," I shook my head. "I can tell by looking at your face. Nathaniel hasn't talked to me face-to-face since New Year's Eve, so how could he be holding Mason and I back?"

"He's not physically in your way, Scarlett," He said. "He's mentally in your way. You may not see him, but he's there in the back of both of your minds."

"Mason and I love each other," I stated firmly. "And no one can get in the way of that. _No__one_."

"Not even super buff Nathaniel?" He chuckled.

"Not even super buff Nathaniel," I confirmed.

"Not even super considerate Nathaniel?" He glanced over at me.

"Not even super considerate Nathaniel," I verified.

"Not even the Nathaniel who loves you more than anything in the world?" He asked me. "Not even the Nathaniel that would do anything for you? Not even the Nathaniel that you spent three weeks with? Not even …"

I interrupted, "Alright, stop it."

"So it does bother you!" He concluded. "I knew it, I just knew it. When I saw you two at the station together, I saw sparks. Neither you nor Nathaniel can deny it – those sparks were there whether you like it or not."

"Nathaniel's just a friend," I sighed.

"I believe you," Coop sneered. "I believe you are just friends."

"Thank you," My eyes floated towards the window.

Then he added quickly, "Friends with benefits."

"Coop!" My eyes shot back to him. "Nathaniel and I don't like each other! … Well, not anymore."

"So you liked him before?" He continued his interrogation.

"I know he liked me," I shrugged. "And … I don't know. He was a friend."

"There's a difference between friend," Coop said. "And, uh, _friendlier_."

"There was nothing going on between us," I exhaled finally. "I've come to love Nathaniel like a brother, nothing more than that and nothing less."

"You know, I've heard some stories about brothers and sisters …"

I stopped him, "Coop! Stop cross-examining me! Nothing happened!"

There was a long pause between us.

"I never asked if anything happened," Coop reminded me.

My fingers automatically twisted together, an annoying trait that was now becoming second nature whenever I became nervous.

"Did something happen?" He wondered.

"No," I shook my head, my voice small. "Nothing."

"I won't pressure you if you don't want to …"

I acted before I thought, which was stupid. "We kissed," I blurted.

"Hmm," He didn't say anything for a long time, his eyes glued to the road as if waiting for something to jump out in front of the beam of the headlights. "I won't criticize you … even though I should."

"I know it was wrong," I looked down at my feet.

"Then why did you do it?" He wondered.

"Well, the second time was unintentional," I explained to him. "He was over at my house and we'd been watching a movie. Then after it was over, he was leaving and he just kind of leaned forward and … did it."

"And the first time?" He asked.

That was the question I wanted to avoid. "It was just like a thank you kiss, and it was just on the cheek."

"So you initiated it?" He sighed.

"It's not like I meant to," I frowned. "It wasn't something I planned."

"Hmm," He said again.

It was a long time before he spoke again, the light patter of rain being the only noise on the windshield. Even though I'd rigorously promised myself that I wouldn't tell anyone about the kiss, I had anyway – I had broken my own promise to myself; although, that wouldn't be the first promise I'd broken.

"Mason is one of my best friends," Coop began, his voice slow. "And you guys are like family to me, like you've always been."

I stared out the window, silent.

"So, I refuse to stand here and watch your relationship die," He finalized. "I don't want Mason to leave, because I know that will break your heart. Nonetheless, if he does leave or you two separate for whatever reason, I'll still be happy for you if you resort to Nathaniel."

"Nathaniel's not like a Plan B," I sighed.

"But he's your backup, isn't he?" He asked honestly. Before I could answer, he added, "And you can't say no, because I've already seen it with my own eyes. When Mason left, you ran right to Nathaniel for support."

Grudgingly, I agreed, "You're right."

"I often am," He nodded with a laugh. "But sometimes I don't think you hear me when I talk to you."

"I listen to you," I countered.

"I told you to warn Nathaniel that Mason was coming back," He gave some examples. "But you waited five minutes before Mason came home to tell him. I told you to choose between one or the other, and you still haven't decided that."

I had nothing to say.

"And I'm telling you now," He warned. "You better watch where you step, because you never know whose heart you might be squishing between your toes."

"I think Nathaniel's heart is something I'd look out for," I told him.

"Yes, well, is Mason's?" He exhaled as he pulled into my driveway. "Because you have to remember that his heart is at your feet too."

As he put it in park, I unbuckled.

"Be careful who you step on, Scarlett," He said finally.

"My guys are strong enough to watch out for themselves," I'd meant for my tone to be joking, but it was a little too haughty for the context.

"I hope you realize that _your_ guys are at _your_ command," He sighed. "One slip of the tongue is all it takes to shoot 'em down."

"I've noticed," I laughed flatly.

"So don't pull the love trigger too quickly," He smirked.

"Love trigger? Really?" I laughed.

"Can you come up with anything better on the spot?" He sighed teasingly. "I'm trying to play the part of supportive friend here."

"Not on the spot, but I'll figure something out," I promised him, getting out of the car and holding the door ajar to keep talking to him.

"I'll see you and Mason on Monday," Coop grinned.

"Alright, see you then," I nodded.

"Hey!" He called me back once I started to walk away. Once I was looking at him, he instructed, "Tell Mason, okay? About the kisses, I mean."

"I can't tell him," I responded automatically.

"But you have to," He nodded.

"But I don't …" I started, but he stopped me.

"Scarlett, do you know the definition of maturity?" Coop asked me. When I didn't answer for a long time, he answered for me. "Maturity is the ability to do something when you have to do it, whether you like it or not."

I protested, "Maturity doesn't apply here."

"And ignorance does?" He countered.

"_Goodbye_," I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"Remember what I said," He jabbed his finger at me as I shut the door.

And then he pulled away, zipping down the street and around the corner, out of sight. I hesitantly, walked down the driveway, noticing that my truck was sitting alone on the asphalt. The porch light was on, so I was almost positive Mason was home.

Maybe he parked the Volvo in the garage.

The moon was bright tonight, gazing down on me with the power of the sun and trickling all over the lawn. I could see my shadow against the pavement, and I stopped to stare it. Something about the way I stood, something about the way I held myself seemed out of place – instead of braced shoulders, I slouched as if afraid of something to come. My knees were locked – I couldn't see that in my shadow but I could feel it – as if ready to buckle and send me crashing down to the ground at any given moment; was my body prepping itself for fear? Fear of what? Judgment day? Or something bigger?

Shaking my head, I let the thoughts pass.

As I walked up the front walk, fiddling with my keys, I began to think over what Coop had said in the car. I knew every assumption he'd made was absolutely correct – whether Mason and I knew it or not, our consciences instinctively had the feeling that Nathaniel was still a suspended subject.

I just hoped and prayed that he wouldn't be a suspended subject forever; and letting Nathaniel ruin everything Mason and I had together wasn't something I would be able to tolerate. I guess the only way to solve this was to make it clear where each of them were in my life – Mason in my arms and Nathaniel by my side.

It didn't hit me until now that Nathaniel truly _was_ my Plan B, my resistance to cushion the blow. I hated to think of him that way … as a painkiller or a prop. And I wasn't sure if Nathaniel was conscious of being treated this way; by the look of it, he liked being used by me. But in the end, it was more of _ab_use than use – Nathaniel had been right: I had more to apologize for than I was aware of.

I walked in the front door then.

I could hear Mason shuffling around in the refrigerator as I entered. I was glad to be home, where I could hide away with my love at least until morning.

"I'm home!" I called, taking off my jacket and draping it over the railing.

"So am I," A female's voice responded – something I surely didn't expect.

I whirled around on my heel, turning to face the source of the voice. It was Lilli, looking exactly the same as she had when she left. Her straight ginger hair had grown a bit longer, though, now two or three inches past her shoulder. She had always been petite with soft features, her heart-shaped face being foremost; her complexion was pale, but her Cuban heritage amiably graced her with a slight tan during the summer, something I'd always been blithely spiteful of.

It was until now that I realized how much I'd missed her.

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed, wrapping her in a hug.

She laughed, most likely not surprised by my manic greeting; I, however, believed I had reason to be overexcited. Anyone who knew me knew right well that I'd never been very verbose, so to have one of the very few people that actually put up with my rare babbling return was simply vitalizing. I laughed at the thought – maybe there were so few of these people because my rambling drove them away.

Believe me, I would've run away from myself if I could too.

I pulled back finally, ecstatic. "I can't believe you're home!"

"I'm glad to be home," She nodded, walking back into the kitchen.

"Wow," I followed her in, looking at the calendar as I passed it. "Time flew by. I forgot today officially ended the ten months …."

"You forgot?" Her eyebrows furrowed as she leaned against the counter.

"Not as in you-are-not-important-enough-to-remember forgot," I exhaled, walking over to the table and sitting down. "Just it-slipped-my-mind forgot."

"No, I understand you forgot," She shook her head, staring at the floor. "It's just … if you didn't remember I was coming back today, then why did you yell 'I'm home' when you walked in the door?"

"What?" I looked up at her.

"Were you telling the house you were back?" She laughed. When I didn't respond at first, she continued, "God, Scarlett. Maybe leaving you here alone wasn't very smart of me. I was gone so long that you've begun to talk to inanimate objects."

"Yeah, I guess," I shrugged, looking down at my fingers.

"Unless …" She paused.

"Unless what?" I tangled my hands together.

"Unless you haven't been alone," She shrugged.

I froze up, a flood of indecision welling up inside me. I considered telling her about Mason now – she would have to find out about him eventually. But the little voice in my head told me not to, for the sake of everything. I could always tell her when Mason got back from wherever he was.

Lilli laughed then, snapping my anxious thoughts in half. "Who am I kidding? There's no way you would've been with anyone, since I called you so many times and you didn't tell me about anyone."

It was as if she already knew, as if she could see the secret written across my forehead. "Yeah, it's been just me."

"Then maybe I should call a doctor," She pushed off the counter and walked over to the calendar, her eyes scanning it. "When can you fit in an appointment?"

"Why do I need a doctor?" I wondered.

She pulled a sticky note off the microwave. "This is why." She waved the yellow paper at me, exhaling.

"What about it?" I couldn't read what it said.

"'Scarlett, call mechanic to check the Volvo'," She read from it. Then her eyes retreated back to me – she strained herself to remain calm. "Two things stood out to me right here. First of all, you write notes to yourself in third person? Are you really _that_ lonely?"

"I guess," I sighed, looking down at my feet and then back up at her.

"And another thing," She said, her volume escalating as her temper ascended. "You bought a Volvo! I know you like Edward Cullen, Scarlett. We moved to Forks, you have that truck. Is that still not enough? What now? Are you role-playing?"

"No, I …" I tried to explain.

She didn't let me. "Your truck is running, right?"

"The truck is fine," I replied.

"Then why do you need a Volvo?" She used her hands as she spoke.

"It doesn't belong to me," I shook my head.

"Wait, it doesn't?" A perplexed curiosity blanketed her previously heated expression. "Well, then … uh, who does it belong to?"

She'd caught me, "Uh."

"Scarlett," Her eyes stared right through me. "Answer me honestly. Have you been alone these past couple of months or not?"

I chose my words carefully. "I was lonely."

"Feeling lonely and being alone are two different things," She sighed. "Are you living alone or aren't you?"

"Lilli, there's no one here that you don't know," I frowned. That was a perfectly honest statement, right? She knew Mason from grade school – although, I highly doubted she remembered him.

"No _guys_?" Her eyebrow rose.

"No guys," I lied to her. I'd expected that lie to come back to bite me later, but I hadn't realized how quickly later would come.

"I'm home," Mason's voice echoed through the house as we heard the front door creak open, the sound of rustling grocery bags coming from the foyer.

Lilli's mouth dropped open.

He was looking down at everything he was carrying when he came in, not noticing Lilli at first. But he hadn't even taken a second step into the kitchen when he sensed a stranger's presence. He stared at her for a moment, trying to guess who she was; only once did he exchange a puzzled glance with me.

Finally, his eyes widened, "Lilli?"

"How do you know me?" Her eyebrow rose.

I stood, retreating to Mason's side; he instinctively wrapped his arm around my waist, a smirk crossing his face – I could tell he was trying to suppress a laugh.

After less than a couple seconds, she grew even more agape, the corners of her mouth curving as if to say, '_Is__this__a__joke?_' "Mason Ryder?"

Mason turned to me, his eyebrows furrowing adorably, "How come she recognized me and you didn't?"

I shrugged nervously.

"I can't believe it!" Lilli exclaimed. I tried to read her face, to get at least some idea of what she thought of him, of us; however, her face had too many mixed emotions painted across it – confused and shocked and angry and amused all at the same time.

"Well, believe it," Mason muttered under his breath, grinning.

"Why didn't you tell me!" She put her hands on her hips. "I can't … you can't be serious! Mason … as in Mason from school?"

"I know it's a lot to take in," I sighed. "But you'll get used to it."

"Get used to it?" She laughed snappily, stepping forward and grabbing my wrist. She pulled me out of Mason's grasp and into the living room.

Mason got her drift – he remained in the kitchen, snickering to himself.

"Scarlett, I know you're desperate," Lilli crossed her arms across her chest, her voice soft so Mason couldn't overhear. "But you don't call up your ex-boyfriend and drag him to the middle of nowhere just because you're lonely. Especially, when you dated said ex-boyfriend _twice_. You just don't do it."

"It's a really long story …" I said.

"Then tell it to me now," She exhaled. "I think you owe me at least an explanation considering I called you every day and you decided to tell me _nothing_."

"Fine," I began to explain to her everything that had happened to me in the past few months – everything from Mason's arrival to Asher's disappearance to my three weeks spent with Nathaniel to the preeminent Christmas to the most recent, Gemma's unexpected death; I also made sure to mention my inexorable dreams and the wolf's haunting visits. All of the words were smashed together in a rush, making me sound a bit more delusional than I actually was. Nonetheless, as I watched her face at the end, I couldn't help but think …

_Maybe__I__am__delusional_.

She didn't speak for a long time, but when she did, her voice was small. "Your life is like a soap opera."

"Sometimes, it feels like that," I shrugged, out of breath.

"So … you two are getting married?" Lilli's eyebrows furrowed as the wheels turned in her head.

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

"And he's been living here," It wasn't a question. "And he's a doctor … must be filthy rich. And you got a grand piano for Christmas? And a car … a _Volvo_ …." Her voice trailed away.

"I'm pretty awesome, aren't I?" Mason teased.

Lilli and I both turned to see him leaning against the wall by the steps.

"You sound like a kiss-up to me," Lilli laughed. "Or maybe Scarlett is just easily impressed."

Mason came to my side, kissing my temple gently. "She's easily impressed, beyond doubt."

"I am a sucker for the tall and pale type," I allowed.

He chuckled, leaning down and kissing me softly on the lips.

"Ugh, please put an end to this insanity," Lilli interrupted, pushing the two of us apart and walking through us to the stairs. "C'mon, Scarlett, help me unpack."

I rolled my eyes, following her up the steps.

We weren't even halfway up when Mason called to us, "Before you unpack, maybe you should consider clearing out your room. I saw some cardboard boxes in the laundry room if you need them."

"I don't think so, bud," Lilli continued walking. "I'm not leaving."

"If you say so," Mason sighed as I pulled my eyes away from him. "Maybe Scarlett can convince you otherwise because, ahem, you're leaving."

Lilli stopped again, glaring down at him.

"Unless you'd rather live with a married couple," Mason shrugged. "I mean, I personally would be really uncomfortable. To hear everything that goes on in the room right next to yours _perfectly_ …"

"Don't try to scare me, Ryder," She rolled her eyes.

"Fine, fine, I'll shut u," He waltzed into the kitchen. We were walking down the hall upstairs when we heard his voice again, "Hey, Lilli."

"What?" She called down.

"Move out."

"Never."

I laughed, shaking my head. Of course, I wouldn't like for them to argue all the time, but at least it would provide me with a little comic relief.


	22. Chapter 18

Lilli's room was a bit bigger than mine.

The first thing you noticed when you walked in was probably the exotic color choices. Unlike me, Lilli could've cared less about remaining true to the Swan's architectural tastes. Two walls were charcoal, ashy in shade, and the other two were a vivid crimson. Above her bed was a poster of some anime that I didn't know enough about to describe, and, besides that, there was not much more covering the walls.

Her bed was tall and large, taking up a big chunk of the room. Her other furniture looked dwarfed compared to it; a small black desk sat by the window to the left by the door and a modern dresser presided on the far side of the room.

Sitting on her bed were two bulbous suitcases, overflowing with everything she'd taken with her. She continued unpacking as soon as she walked into the room, but I sat on her bed, just beaming; it was good to have my best friend back.

"Well, I must say I'm surprised," She exhaled, emerging from her closet. "I expected to come home and find you lying on the couch, bone skinny and crust around your eyes, watching _Twilight_."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't expect you to do much else," She admitted. She picked up some of her t-shirts out of the suitcase and walked into her closet to put them away. When she returned, she laughed, "But I guess you were a lot _busier_ than I would've guessed."

"He's really great," I reassured her. "He's had a lot of time to grow up since high school, and I can see that he has."

"He seems a bit more untrimmed than I remember," She shrugged, a wry smile crossing her face. "Wearing him down, are you?"

I exhaled, reaching into her suitcase and fiddling with the hem of her jeans.

She could tell I was speechless, incapable of responding. "Do you love him or were you just unable to say no?" She asked.

"Oh, I love him," I said. "I _depend_ on him."

After a moment of silence, I looked up at her.

"What do you mean by untrimmed?" I asked.

"Well," She grinned, leaning against the edge of her bed. "I recalled him being a little more independent when we were teenagers. Did you think I didn't notice how he grabbed you as soon as you stood up? He held your waist as if I were a danger to you, even though he seemed to find everything pretty amusing. Does he do that around everybody?"

"He's just protective," I exhaled.

"Obviously," She smirked. "Or maybe he's just as desperate as you are. Did you ever consider that?"

"He's far from desperate," I shook my head.

"Hmm, I don't think you understand what I mean," Lilli sat down on the bed, falling back onto her pillow and exhaling, "Wow, it feels so great to be back in my own room. Don't get me wrong, the hotel room was so cool and high-tech, but nothing beats home, don't you think?"

I couldn't be easily distracted. "What don't I understand?"

She sat up, running her hand through her hair before speaking. "If you are still the Scarlett I know you are, then I know for a fact without even having to observe your relationship for five minutes that you're clingy and can't live without that boy … although I don't know what you see in him." She couldn't help but laugh at the end.

I folded my arms across my chest.

"But have you ever thought that maybe he is the same way for you?" She brought up the question, and my thoughts couldn't help but tear it apart.

Mason? Desperate? If you asked me and if I responded instantly, my answer would probably be something along the lines of 'not in the slightest.' Nevertheless, if you made me think about it for a little while, I might consider it. He did come back for me, didn't he? He held me with the same compassion that I felt for him, didn't he? He cared for me and told me loved me often, didn't he?

That had to count for something.

Perhaps Lilli was right. Sure Mason wasn't certifiably addicted like I was, but was there any use in denying that he had already tried to prove his love to me in everyway possible …?

Or maybe that was just what I wanted to think.

Before my thoughts could plow on much further, Lilli stopped me. I'm glad she had – otherwise, I almost certainly would've drawn false conclusions.

"I can see that he loves you," She nodded, climbing off the bed. "And I'm glad you finally found someone you trust and care about."

"Thanks," I smiled.

She spoke as she continued to unpack her things. "So who is this Nathaniel character and why do I have a feeling he is the Jacob Black in this situation?"

"He's just a really good friend of mine," I shrugged. "I guess I should explain in depth since I wasn't really clear downstairs. When Mason left for those couple weeks, Nathaniel was kind of like my backbone. We went surfing and we hung out at one of his Quileute friends' houses everyday. It was a lot of fun. It felt good to have a friend again."

"Oh," She nodded, not saying more. However, I knew this tactic of hers; I would vent something extremely personal to her, she would answer with a trivial response – such as "oh" or "uh-huh" or "hmm" – and then she would leave the word hanging in the air, sending my thoughts whirling. This would only lead me to contradict myself.

As expected, I continued, the conflict in my voice dangerously apparent. "I don't know, though. He said he loved me and it was obvious a lot of the time, but sometimes, when we got into arguments, I didn't know what to think. But we barely ever argued and if we did, it was over something stupid. And nowadays, he doesn't talk to me much and I can't help but think it was something I did or said. It was probably New Year's Eve, when he saw me dancing with Mason … but that couldn't have bothered him that much, could it?" By the end, I was mainly talking to myself.

Lilli was quiet for a long time, making me antsy. When she did speak, her only question was simple. "So do you like him?"

"Nathaniel's great," I said, avoiding her eyes and staring out the window instead. I noticed it had begun to rain. "And so thoughtful. I went with him to the station once and he wasn't like the other impassive officers there."

"Wait. He's a police officer?" She asked.

"Yeah," I brought my eyes back to her. "Right here in Forks, actually."

"Hmm," She paused to think. "And you two are really good friends, right?"

"Uh-huh," I leaned against her headboard. "Well, I'd like to think so, but a lot of the time I'm not sure."

"But you're relatively good friends?" She wondered.

My eyebrow rose. "Yeah?"

"Great," She smiled. "Do you think, since you guys are buddies and all, that he'd let me slide on a speeding ticket fee that I haven't paid in about a year?"

"Lilli!" I laughed.

"I know, I know," She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "It's not the right thing to do, but you can't blame me for trying."

I smiled as she walked back into her closet. "I'm glad to have you back."

"It's good to be back," She agreed. When she emerged from her closet, she leaned against the bed again. "But Mason will get his wish. I won't stay much longer."

"What?" I sat up straight.

"In a way," She spoke her thoughts aloud. "This works out better than I'd planned. I was afraid of leaving you alone, but now that you've got Mason, I'm not wanted here anyways, right?"

"I don't want you to leave," I whined. "Where would you go?"

"Anthony invited me to live with him in Seattle," She told me. "And I said I would, because I can see that he wants to take the relationship farther. He's still in Japan on business but he's going to be back in two weeks."

"So …" I exhaled. "Are you going to be staying here till, then?"

"If it's okay," She sighed. When I nodded, she continued, "I can't wait for you to meet him; he's funny and smart and so gorgeous. I have no idea why he likes me, though – I mean, what can any guy see in this?" She stepped back and held out her hands as if she were presenting herself.

"Stop degrading yourself," I waved my hand.

"What can I say? I have a naturally low self-esteem," She shrugged. "This cruel world has crushed my ego to dust."

I laughed.

"Hey, but don't tell Mason I'm leaving," She whispered.

"Why not?" I wondered.

"It'll give him the satisfaction of winning," She explained to me in a quiet voice as if she thought Mason could overhear us. "All guys are the same. If he wants me to move, then I'm going to make him think just the opposite."

"Why would you want to do that?" I exhaled.

"Just to get under his skin," She grinned. "I want him to remember that this isn't _his_ house. It belonged to me before it belonged to him."

"So it's like a territorial thing?" I giggled.

"Definitely," She nodded.

"That's so childish," I shook my head.

Lilli shrugged, "Maybe. But it's also deviously perfect."

* * *

><p>Lilli had to recover from jetlag.<p>

I had to remember that it was probably three in the morning over in Japan. Nonetheless, she was determined to keep awake as long as possible to keep talking to me. It wasn't until 11:30 that I had to call it quits for her sake; she was nodding off and could hardly keep her eyes open. So I left her to get her rest, quietly shutting her door behind me.

I saw no light coming from downstairs, but I could see a soft creamy glow coming from my bedroom. When I walked in, I saw Mason stretched out on the bed, reading a chunky book with yellowed pages. He looked up at me when I walked in, but didn't speak; he simply smiled as I sat down on the bed and curled up into his chest. As he wrapped his arm around me, I picked up what he was reading to look at the cover.

"Faulkner?" I grinned. "Impressive."

"Well, I'm glad it impresses you," He laughed. "That makes me feel at least a little bit sane for picking it up."

"You don't like it?" I surmised.

"I'm struggling to get through the first page," He verified.

"Then why are you reading it?" I wondered with a laugh as he handed the book to me; in turn, I set it down on the nightstand.

"To pass time," He answered. "I checked my e-mails, did the dishes and then tried to do something productive." He gestured towards the book. "It looked like an easy read when I pulled it off your bookshelf, but I guess looks can be deceiving."

"Never assume that a book that size is an easy read," I giggled. "I had to go through college to learn how to read them."

"I'm not going to try," He shook his head with a laugh. "So what were you doing in there with Lilli so long? If you recall, you've skipped out on our seventeen again date for the _second_ time."

"Oh," I'd forgotten. "Just catching up."

"Well, I'm glad you're done," He grinned, picking up his hand and placing it under my chin. He lifted my face up to his so his eyes were staring directly into mine. "Because I'm starting to feel deprived of your attention."

Leaning forward, his lips met mine. Every time he touched me it was like an electric shock that vigorously ran through my veins. Occasionally, this was too much for me to handle – this being one of those times – but I didn't pull away to regain myself; I could tell by his vehemence that he wasn't eager to let go.

Besides, I didn't want him to stop.

Rarely was he this persistent. Sure, he kissed me everyday and he held me close to him almost all of the time, but he never really crossed that line. Only once had he ever done so – on the second night he was in Forks with me – but, since then, he hadn't been so willing. I couldn't help but think his sudden urgency meant something. I was unable to think much more on the subject, though. My mental bank was going hazy.

I was too dizzy. He mystified me.

He rolled over on top of me, propping his hands on either side of my head. Every so often he would stop to catch his breath, resting his forehead on mine and breathing gently onto my face. However, he wouldn't allow any time for conversation; his lips would be back to mine in a heartbeat.

As he became more passionate, I could feel him tugging at the hem of my shirt; every time I tried to let him in, though, he pulled my shirt back down, as if still debating within himself. The kisses were erratic – erratic in a sense that every few seconds he would slow himself, but then he'd push back again aggressively. As if this was a matter of his self-conscience.

He stopped.

His eyes floated over to the door, his jaw only just caressing my cheek. "I think I heard Lilli," He said. "Do you think she's awake?"

I was too rapt by him to react.

When I didn't answer, he turned his head back to me, staring at me with vibrancy in his eyes; it was enlivening. "Are you capable of responding?"

I shook my head.

He laughed, his smile tempting me. Then his eyes returned back to the door. "Maybe we should shut that, don't you think? Just in case …." His voice trialed off.

"I'll get it," I exhaled.

He smiled, rolling off of me.

Before I stood, I looked back at him, "Don't disappear."

"I'll try not to," He chuckled.

I walked over to the door, shutting it quietly so not to wake Lilli. It felt a bit awkward to have my best friend right next door. At least tonight I knew she was so tired that there was no way that she would awaken – she most certainly wouldn't hear anything.

When I turned back to the bed, I was shocked to find it empty; all that was there was a rumpled indent where Mason's body was only moments ago. My eyes scanned the room, not seeing him anywhere. I turned back to the door, and then again back to the bed, but I still did not see him. My first reaction was surprise, but that soon drifted into unease.

Flustered, I sat down on the bed.

Almost immediately after sitting down, an arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back. Turning, I saw Mason lying on the other side of the bed; he collapsed onto the pillow and pulled me across him, a smug smile on his face.

"Where'd you go?" I wondered quietly.

"It didn't take you long to get upset," He noted, pulling my face back to his. This time, I was on top. "I was just on the other side of the bed, you know."

I flushed, embarrassed.

"May I ask what you were thinking?" He mused.

"Hmm," I felt stupid. "I was frustrated that you were gone. The thought was maddening to me."

His eyebrow rose. "Curious."

"Curious?" I played with the hem of his V-neck.

"Curious," He repeated, cradling my head in his hands and pulling my lips to his. He pulled away, exhaling deeply before explaining himself, "Curious because … we've already established that you'd be nothing without me, but the look on your face screamed …." he paused, searching for the right word.

"Desperate," I filled in.

"Suicidal," He corrected.

"I'm not _that_ fixated by you," I sighed, but then I stopped. "Or am I?"

"I think you might be, love," He laughed, but then his joking expression changed. "Would you be suicidal if I left? Permanently, I mean."

"Clearly," I meant it to be jocular, but it sounded solid enough to be true.

"Scarlett," Distress filled his voice. "Even if things didn't work out for us, I hope you wouldn't consider ending your life. I'm not … worth it."

"You _are_ worth it," I sighed.

"But I'm not," He disagreed. "Believe me."

I said nothing in reply.

After a few silent minutes, he muttered slowly, "Answer this. You love me, don't you?"

"Of course," I nodded.

"And I love you," He continued, watching my fingers as I continued to play with his shirt. "And you would do whatever's best for me, right?"

"Naturally," I answered him.

"And I would do whatever's best for you," He confirmed, exhaling. "Now, is hurting someone under the category of doing what's best for them?"

"Not usually, no," I shook my head.

"If you killed yourself," He exhaled. "Obviously, you're not doing what's best for you … but would it be what's best for me?"

I knew the question was rhetorical.

"_Romeo __& __Juliet_ is a good example," He elucidated. "Juliet killed herself because she saw Romeo was dead. So, technically, Romeo drove his love to commit suicide. That doesn't sound very selfless of him, does it?"

"No, I guess not," I got his point.

"Would you want to be the reason for my death?" He answered.

"Never," My response was innate.

"Well," A smirk crossed his face. "Too late."

"What do you mean?" I wondered.

"You've already damned me," He sighed, his fingertip grazing along my jaw, spiking my nerves. He smiled widely, his voice playfully mocking now. "You are my weakness, and, as a result, my downfall."

He kissed me, but it was very short. He didn't move or lean forward to kiss me again – he simply remained inert, staring into my eyes warmly.

"You know," I smiled, reluctantly pulling my eyes away from him to look out the window. "You say you hate Romeo, but in a lot of ways you're like him."

He smirked, "I don't think so."

"I think you are," I countered. "You just freely admitted your weakness, and that is very Romeo."

Mason rolled his eyes.

"Not just Romeo," I continued. "That's very love-struck."

"I'm not the love-struck one in this relationship," he denied. "That most certainly would be _you_."

"I think we're even on that one," I allowed.

"Fine," He agreed grudgingly. And then he added, "I guess that's just part of the deal anyway."

"What deal?" I smiled.

He pulled my face to his, his lips gently caressing mine. "Falling in love," He answered. "It's a deal that any lover has to make. We promise to become one person." I could feel him intertwining our hands together. "When one of us is sad, so is the other. When one of us is in pain, so is the other. If one dies … so does the other."

I laughed. "That's very poetic."

"It's also the truth," He nodded.

"So, what you're saying is," My eyebrows furrowed as he twirled my hair around his slim finger. "Falling in love is a pact between two people … and if that's true, that means … you can't be in love with more than one person."

"Wouldn't that be breaking the pact?"

"Yes, I guess so, in a way," I shrugged, my voice small. But then I picked up the confidence to keep going, stronger this time. "But it is possible to love more than one person, right?"

He paused before saying, "I don't understand."

I could tell he didn't like saying that, he didn't like not understanding.

So I explained, "A person can love their parents, a person can love their family, a person can love their friends. I love Lilli, and Coop, and Krista, and Asher, and … and Nathaniel."

He didn't answer for awhile.

"Hmm," I said just to break the silence.

"That's a different kind of love," he shook his head, leaning forward to kiss me again. "I mean, you wouldn't do that to Nathaniel, would you?"

"No," I frowned, the guilt beginning to gnaw at my insides. Nevertheless, I couldn't tell him, at least not now; the moment was to perfect to spoil.

"Well," He distracted me from my thoughts with his velvety voice. "Forget about all of that stuff for now. Right now, you're all mine."

He pulled my face to his again.

I hated interrupting him, especially now when everything was so idyllic. "What is it like? To be married, I mean."

He chuckled.

"What?" I wondered.

"Hmm, as the fiancé of a girl who asks the most random questions, I typically trained myself to be ready for anything," He explained. "But I hadn't really prepped myself to answer that."

"But can you?" I asked.

"Well," He began as I ran my hand through his matted hair. "The prominent thing I can remember with Madison is that you have to put up with a lot. Even before everything started going wrong, we both had to tolerate the small things like leaving the lid off the toothpaste and the toilet seat up, 'did you fill up the car with gas?' and 'did you go to your doctor appointment?'. Drive me here, drive me there, we need to buy this, pay these bills …." He stopped, exhaling.

I pouted. "Sounds hard."

"Sounds like life," He said.

"Then life sounds hard," I sighed. "But it won't be like that with us, right?"

"Every married couple goes through that," He shrugged. "No matter how blinded by love you may be, the first years are when life hits you the hardest. That's when the realization that you're now responsible for someone other than yourself sets in."

"Hmm," I rested my head on his chest, his heartbeat like metronome in my ear, lulling me closer to sleep.

He continued to play with my hair.

"What about the good stuff of marriage?" I inquired.

"The good stuff?" He laughed. He continued on, his voice soft and slow. "There's someone to love, someone to come home to, there's someone to talk to, someone to laugh with, someone to hold on to … and the best part is …" He couldn't find anything to say.

I prompted him. "The best part is …?"

"I couldn't find it," He shook his head. "Not with Madison at least."

"And …" I looked up at his face. "Will you find it this time?"

He smirked, his lips curving into a clever smile. Leaning down, he whispered into my ear, "I already have."

I glanced at his eyes, which were luridly alive. "What is it?"

"It's something you have to find out," He told me. "It's one of those vital secrets that I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to."

"Why not?" I complained playfully.

"Well, why don't you guess?" He grinned.

I paused to think. "The best part is … not having to breathe on your own, to have it not hurt to fall anymore."

His smile faded for a moment.

"What?" I wondered.

"I never thought of it that way," He shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought. Then the smile returned, "Or maybe I had thought of it, but the way you put it is just so _lyrical_."

"It's the author's curse," I giggled.

"You should copyright that," He replied, kissing me again.


	23. Chapter 18, pt 2

Morning came faster than I'd hoped.

By the time Mason and I were both awake it was about eight-thirty – we were downstairs eating our breakfast in no time. Lilli, however, was still fast asleep; once ten o'clock rolled around, we boxed up the breakfast Mason had made for her and put in the fridge, realizing she probably wouldn't be awake before noon.

We spent most of our morning on the couch in the living room, just talking. A lot was covered in that short little period of time – we discussed the rain, colors that made us think of rain, colors that made us think of Forks, my reasoning behind even considering having the wedding in Forks, what kind of flowers would look best at our wedding, which flowers would survive in these conditions at our wedding, why weddings were often inflated and over-commercialized, how often anything was over-commercialized, the beauty of simple things and the beauty of non-simple things, things that reminded us of beautiful things, things that reminded us of sad things, and everything in between respectively. And somehow in that jumbled up conversation, we ended up getting back to the topic of rain.

When in doubt, talk about the weather, I suppose.

Around noon, the doorbell rang, and when we went to get it, a bulky brown package was sitting on the welcome mat and the mailman was driving away. I was immediately curious, but Mason lifted it off the porch without a second thought and carried it into the kitchen.

"What do you think it is?" I wondered, following him.

He set it down on the table. "I don't think. I know."

"Well, then what is it?" I asked, crossing my arms across my chest.

Pulling out his keys, he sliced the tape covering the crease on the top and opened it up. "It's invitations."

"Invitations to what?" I grabbed one of the cards out and looked at it.

"What else?" He chuckled, pulling out a card. "Wedding invitations."

"You had them printed up?" I skimmed over the fawn invitation, reading the fancy script that was on the front. "It looks very official."

He smiled, and then said, "I didn't think they'd be delivered this quickly. This is great; we'll be able to get them out sooner than I'd expected."

My eyes fell on the date. "March 17th."

He echoed, "March 17th."

"Well, it's set in stone," I shrugged, resting my head on his shoulder. "Now, not even my anxiety can change the date."

"I don't know why you're so scared," He turned and wrapped his arms around my waist. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

"A wedding is a huge milestone," I exhaled into his chest. "I can't help but feel apprehensive."

"Well, try to help it," He sighed, kissing me on the forehead. "Every time you say you're scared only makes me think that you're doing this against your will."

"Believe me," I promised him. "I want to do this."

"I would hope so," He laughed. "Wedding's are expensive."

"Ugh," I groaned. "They're only expensive if you overdo it."

His lips curved into a smile as he left my side and walked over to the fridge.

"You didn't overdo it, did you?" I pouted, leaning against the kitchen table and fiddling with the card in my hand.

"It's a surprise," He laughed. "Besides, you can't blame me."

"And why can't I?" My eyes reluctantly left his and retreated to the card again.

"When you said we were going to have our wedding at the Cullen house," He smiled, pulling a bottle of water off the top shelf and then shutting the fridge. "I went over to check out the site yesterday, and you wouldn't believe the flood of epiphanies that hit me all at once."

The Cullen house, which sat happily down the street from the police station, was what a local bed-and-breakfast had come to be called. Almost as old as Edward Cullen himself, the boxy three-story abode was built in the early 1900's. It was nothing like what Bella Swan had described, but it still served its purpose as a tourist attraction all the same. The owners had so politely agreed to let us borrow the little lot beside the house for a small, outdoor wedding.

"These epiphanies were practical, I hope," I sighed.

"Some more than others," He chuckled. "I pictured a long white carpet going down the middle, all very classic. Just the way you like it," – he smirked – "and then a big tent where the reception could be held …"

I interrupted, moaning, "Reception?"

"All weddings have receptions, Scarlett," He grinned.

"Who needs a reception?" I shook my head, pulling the guest list that had been tucked under a pile of invitations out of the box. "After the wedding, I think all the guests should go home and leave the bride and groom be, don't you?"

He laughed.

"What?" I looked up from the paper at him.

"Scarlett, don't pretend like you don't want all that and then some," He said with a smile. "As long as I've known you, you've always been the hopeless romantic that wanted the perfect wedding."

"Perfect doesn't mean extravagant," I told him. "Perfect can mean simple."

"Hmm," He put his water down on the counter and walked over to me. "Then what do you want, _dear_?"

I was dazzled by his piercing eyes staring lovingly into mine.

"Because the whole nine yards is fine with me," He chuckled.

"Whatever you want," I breathed.

"Then I know you won't mind if I go overboard," He clutched my hips and lifted me up onto the table, pressing himself into me. "Because I am determined to make this day perfect. Nothing can make it go wrong."

"Nothing?" I smiled.

"Well, perhaps the convoluted weather," He chuckled, kissing my cheek. "That's one thing not even I can control."

I giggled as he let go of me.

My eyes returned to the list, skimming down the alphabetized names. I noticed that all of the Quileutes had made the list, and I had to admit, I was grateful to Mason for that. However, I did notice that one very important name was missing, one that I was almost certain he would've skipped on purpose. Once I got to the last page, I noticed Mason's handwriting at the bottom in an inky blue pen – it was Nathaniel's name with a question mark beside it.

"No Nathaniel?" I noted.

"Hmm?" Mason looked at me from what he was doing. I hadn't noticed he was already making sandwiches for our lunch.

"You don't want Nathaniel to come?" I asked him.

"Oh," he turned back to the sandwiches. "I thought I would leave that up to debate. Whatever you want is fine with me."

"Would you be uncomfortable with him there?" I wondered.

"Are you kidding?" He laughed. At first, I thought by 'are you kidding' he meant 'of course, he can come. I don't mind it at all.' But then he went on to say, "Nathaniel is the last person I would want at our wedding."

"That's pessimistic," I noted.

"Let me rephrase," He explained. "Why would I want the guy who is obsessed with my fiancé at my wedding?"

"He's not obsessed with me," I denied.

"It didn't seem like that on New Year's," He reminded me. "Was it just me, or did he come outside before we left and straight out say that he could never love anyone other than you?"

"You shouldn't be bothered by that," I told him.

"Why not?" His tone questioned my sanity.

I walked over to him and pushed a lock of his golden hair out of his face. "I don't think you should be concerned with competition at _our__wedding_. Maybe once you see me in that white dress it'll finally click for you. I don't love Nathaniel. I love you."

"Okay," He allowed. But then he added, "Why don't you tell _him_ that?"

"I think he knows," I sighed, walking back to the table.

"Hmm," Mason shook his head, turning back to the sandwiches. I couldn't see his face as he said, "If you want to invite Nathaniel, go ahead."

"Thanks," I placed the guest list back in the box. "He'll be happy for us, I know it. Nathaniel's told me before that he wants what's best for me, and once he sees this invitation he'll know you're good for me."

"You're sure of that?" He peeked over at me.

"Well, yeah," I nodded.

"You don't think he'll be mad?" Mason tried to convince me otherwise. "If I were him, I would be upset that the girl I love is getting married to another guy."

I said nothing.

"I should know," He looked down at the floor.

"I doubt Nathaniel will be so furious that he'll throw something at a window," I shook my head, laughing jokingly.

"A card is a card, Scarlett," He turned to look at me. "It doesn't talk, it can't say anything. How is Nathaniel supposed to know that you really mean it? Or what if he thinks you're teasing him?"

"He's above that," I exhaled, looking out the window.

The wheels in my head began to turn.

It's not like Nathaniel had been known to overreact, but what Mason said did have some truth to it. I couldn't bring myself to think that Nathaniel would be upset about the invitation. He was my friend, wasn't he? He should be glad, right?

"But," I denied myself, standing. "Just in case, maybe I should hand-deliver this. Just so he can see on my face that I really want him to go."

"Wait," Mason stepped forward, seeing in my eyes the plan that was already forming in my head. "You're not leaving right now, are you?"

"Our wedding's only a little over a month away," I reminded him. "I might as well give it to him now, don't you think?"

He exhaled, "Scarlett, I don't think now is a good time."

"Why not?" I sighed, crossing my arms across my chest. I didn't rush out to the foyer hastily like I had last time – I decided to let him give his reasoning before I completely ignored him. "The weather's fine meaning the roads won't be slick, it's a Saturday meaning he'll probably home, and I haven't seen him in a long time. I think a visit is due before he gets mad at me."

"That's just it," He frowned. "That's why I don't want you to go. If he gets mad at you, your friendship will just come undone again. You'll be all sad and depressed, and then after a couple days you'll beg me to go see him just like you are now. It's a cycle, if you haven't noticed."

I took a deep breath.

Part of me knew he was right, but the other part wanted to explode. Before I could decide which side to be on, my second half ruptured, "Nathaniel cares about me, and I know for sure that he won't be mad at me …"

I think Mason could see the tears coming, so he pulled me into him and sighed, "Okay. How about I go with you?"

"You think that'll help?" I raised an eyebrow, stepping back to look at him.

"No, probably not," He stepped away, then. "Can't it wait until tomorrow? Nathaniel will still be there when you wake up in the morning."

My mind was already made up. "I'll be back before you know it," I promised, walking into the foyer and grabbing a thin jacket.

"Last time you said that," Mason shook his head, leaning against the banister. "You came back in tears four hours after you left."

"This is different," I slipped my arms through the sleeves. "I've grown up a lot since then."

"That was a month ago," He pointed out.

"It only takes a couple minutes for someone to grow up," I mused, sarcasm leaking out of my pores. "And do you know how many minutes are in a month? Wow, looks like I've had an abundance of growing up to do."

He chuckled.

I opened up the door and stepped out onto the porch.

"If you're not back in two hours, I'm coming to get you," He said.

"Alright," I exhaled. "I promise. You don't have to worry about me."

"I know," He smiled holding the door open as I walked down the steps. "You are a big girl." He smirked.

I rolled my eyes.

"And I promise I won't say I told you so," He called to me once I reached the front walk.

My eyes shot back to him. "You won't have to."

He wanted to speak, I could tell, but he didn't. Mason was wrong – Nathaniel cared about me and would be happy with my decisions.

So, with one last look at Mason, I walked to the driveway and climbed into my truck. It rumbled to life – it seemed the minor adjustments Mason had done to the engine somehow wore off. I backed out of the driveway, noticing him still standing on the porch.

He stood there, watching me with a blank stare. I pretended not to notice and began to fiddle with the radio to distract myself. Once I'd made it out of the drive, my eyes automatically retreated to the rearview mirror – and he was still there.

I turned the corner then, turning up the radio louder to drain Mason's voice out of my head: _I__promise__I__won__'__t__say__I__told__you__so_. His voice had been teasing when he said it, but I could detect a hint of gravity. Had I really become so predictable that he could foresee my breakdowns hours before they even happened?

The song on the radio hummed to a close, and the broadcaster's voice took over just as I turned onto Route 101. I wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying, but my brain unconsciously picked out the word 'thunderstorms.' I leaned forward and looked out the windshield – there were some gray, ominous clouds in the distance, but it would probably be hours before they would get close enough to cause major damage.

Getting to La Push took less time than I expected; I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I almost missed the turn onto Robyn and Adam's driveway. As I turned into the forest, the dark sky disappeared, covered by the canopy. I began to tap my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song that had just come on – it was then that I noticed how clammy I was; my fingertips were sticking to the vinyl.

I finally reached their house, and it was a huge relief when I did. It was like coming home whenever I saw their house, even though a couple months ago I had no clue this humble abode existed. I noticed Adam's van out front alongside the tire-less vehicle propped up on cinderblocks. Other than that, their driveway looked barren – normally, all the guys would be hanging out here; but it looked like none of them where there it all.

After pulling the key out of the ignition, I slid out of my cab, shuffling my way across the gravel to the front door. Adam answered after one knock.

"Scarlett!" He exclaimed. Much to my surprise, he wrapped me in a hug and picked me up, lifting me about three feet off the ground.

I giggled embarrassedly when he put me back down.

"Wow, how long has it been?" He chuckled. "It feels like forever."

"Yeah, it does," I agreed, nodding and wrapping my key ring around my index finger. "I'm sorry I don't visit more often."

"Well, do you want to come in?" Adam offered.

"Um," I wanted to say yes, but, remembering my promise to Mason, I decided against it. "I actually came to see Nathaniel. Is he here?"

"No, sorry," Adam shrugged, walking into the house and expecting me to follow. "I know he doesn't have work today, so you'll probably find him at his house."

Tempted to stay but knowing I couldn't, I just stepped onto the doorstep and remained in the doorway. "Oh, well, I don't know where he lives."

"Is it a message I can pass on?" Adam asked. He could tell what my answer was just by looking at my face. "I understand. You want to talk to him yourself."

I nodded.

"Hmm," He thought for a moment, grabbing an iced tea from the refrigerator. "Well, I could drive you there if you'd like."

"I wouldn't want to impose," I shook my head. "You're probably busy."

"Not at all," He denied. "Today's been kind of a lazy day."

"The best kind of day," I smiled.

"Yeah," He laughed, putting the tea back in the fridge and walking towards the hall. "Robyn's in the bathroom. I'm just going to tell her where I'm going."

"Okay," I said as he shuffled down the hall and out of sight.

I ambled over to the dining room, leaning against the table and crossing my arms across my chest. I hadn't considered that Nathaniel wouldn't be here; I guess it was stupid of me to have never thought that he'd have a place of his own. My eyes scanned the living area – it felt eerily empty without the sound of laughter. I don't think I'd ever been in this room by myself. Then I glanced over at the wall closest to me, just now noticing how it was cluttered with memories.

The most prominent picture was a long, skinny one of all of the Quileutes together. Robyn was wearing a slimming white gown that flowed to the ground behind her with her hair flowing down to her waist and – her most familiar accessory – Adam at her side. On her right side were Nathaniel, Dylan and Justin; on Adam's left side were Tommy, Shane and Zach.

Another picture close to that one was quite the same – they were all dressed up in patched suits and the girls they were with were in lovely dresses. At the bottom of the photo it read: Senior Prom. My eyes skimmed down the line of a younger version of the Quileutes I'd come to love, noticing the pattern: boy, girl, boy, girl. I also noticed that Robyn was with someone other than Adam … and that Nathaniel wasn't alone.

He wasn't looking at the camera, and neither was the girl he was with. Instead, they were staring at each other, their eyes filled to the brim with affection, joy, and that bubbly feeling that you get when you're too in love to form articulate words. I could only assume this was his first love from senior year. She was beautiful to say the least; she didn't look like the rest of the Quileutes, I noticed. She wasn't tan but she wasn't pale either – her complexion was somewhere in the middle. Her hair was long and curly, a similar shade of brown to mine. Her eyes were hazel, but I could see a tinge of blue on the rims of her pupils. She looked like the type of person that was easy to get along with, at least that was what her smile told me.

Overall, she was beautiful – I could see now why Nathaniel was so miserable when he lost her.

"Remind you of anyone?" A voice said from behind me.

"What?" I whirled around quickly to see Adam standing by me.

He discarded his last statement. "It hurts to look at her, doesn't it?" He exhaled, stuffing his hands in his pockets and strolling up to stand right next to me.

"Hmm," I didn't say anything, in fear of saying something wrong.

"Whenever I see this picture," He explained in a low voice, practically a whisper. "Whenever I see Nate looking at her like that … when any person has the guts to look at person like that, you know they were in love. It's natural to hurt when you know that person is gone, right?" It seemed to have pained him to say what he said; every word was split up – he paused to swallow between every sentence.

"Hmm," I repeated. "I guess."

"That's why we were all so excited," He told me. "Nathaniel hasn't looked at anybody like that since then … well, until you came along."

I recalled what he said before. "Who does it remind you of?"

"Well, I thought it would be obvious," He shrugged. "She looks just like you."

My eyes flashed back to the picture and stayed there – I suppose she looked somewhat like me, but she was clearly better, prettier; she looked healthier than I ever could and she seemed to fit in with those around her even though it wasn't her original setting, something I could never do.

When I didn't speak for a long time, Adam laughed, "When I first saw you, I decided that Nate had a thing for the green-eyed brunettes. It wasn't until I talked to you that I thought twice."

I hesitantly pulled my eyes away from the picture and looked at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He gestured towards the picture, "Robyn always described Sammie" – I assumed that was her name – "as the type of girl who was really headstrong, always able and willing to take care of herself."

There was a short pause.

"That is most definitely not you," Adam chuckled.

"I guess I am kind of dependent," I shrugged. "But I can take care of myself."

"Sure, maybe," He grinned.

He didn't say much more on the subject, and with one last glance at the prom photograph, he turned and headed for the front door. I silently followed him, agreeing that there was nothing more on the subject to say.

"Nate's house is only about a minute from here," He said, extending his hand out to me, nodding for my car keys that I still clutched in my hand. I gave them to him. "It shouldn't take us long at all to get there."

"Alright," I exhaled.

He let me go out the door first, but my sluggish pace must've made him antsy – he quickly jogged around me and beat me to the driver's side.

"It's a nice piece of crap you've got here," He joked.

"No hating the truck," I climbed into the passenger seat.

"Isn't this the car that vampire girl drives …?" He noticed with a smirk.

Before he could continue, I cut him off. "Yes. And if you mock me for being an obsessive fan, don't get too proud of yourself because you're not the first."

"I take it you get made fun of a lot for this," He smiled, starting the car.

"Actually, no," I shook my head. "All the locals in Forks are used to all this fandom that comes to town. In fact, it's kind of expected."

"It's not as bad in La Push," He turned the wheel, the gravel crunching under the tires. "Well, I shouldn't say that. The swarms of fans come intermittently, I guess. This is the 'off-season' you could say."

I laughed, but the noise was broken up, not whole.

Once out from under the branches' cover and onto the main road, small droplets of rain began to dash across the windshield – I hadn't expected the clouds to come so quickly; the fierce winds must've pushed the storm clouds precariously – at any moment a torrent of water would probably come slamming down to earth. Right now, it wasn't anything severe, but the darkening sky foreshadowed the coming rainstorm.

Snapping my eyes away from the sky, I heard my truck groan. My eyes flew to the speedometer, noticing that the dial was struggling to go past sixty. Adam continued to push on the gas, unaware of the impending destruction he was forcing onto my pride and joy.

"Watch it, big guy," I reached over and tapped the speedometer.

"The speed limit here is, like, fifty-five," He complained.

"Doesn't matter," I shook my head. "My baby could probably take forty."

"Forty!" He laughed flatly. "You're kidding!"

"That's the price of owning an elder," I laughed, but then I feigned seriousness. "So be respectful."

"Yes, ma'am," He chuckled.

Adam had been right; Nathaniel's house was not that far away at all. After what seemed like seconds of driving, he turned onto a dirt drive and stopped in front of a small decrepit cabin. It looked almost uninhabited, except for Nathaniel's familiar Ford out front. The shingles on the roof were falling off and the siding was a chipping green paint, worn by years of the torturous rain.

The woodlands surrounded the house, the dead grass that presided within a thirty yard radius of the household being the only viable excuse for a yard.

"It's …" I felt obligated to say something.

"It's the best he could afford," Adam exhaled, putting it in park. "There's only so much money you can earn when you choose not to stay in one place too long."

I nodded, understanding.

Opening my door and stepping out onto the moist grass, I realized that it had gotten windier since I was last outside a moment ago. My hair twirled about my face and the trees could be heard whispering to one another from the forest. I was about to shut the door when Adam stuck out his hand and stopped me.

"Should I wait for you?" He asked.

"I won't be long," I told him.

He nodded, letting me shut the door then.

I reached the house in no time, but was afraid to step on the front landing in fear it would give way. I didn't pause long enough to debate whether to step forward or not, though; I decisively stepped up onto the first step and raised my finger to press the doorbell. My fingertip brushed the bell, but an abrupt noise inside the house stopped me.

I leaned back and looked into the front window.

I could see Nathaniel standing in his kitchen. He was pulling something out of the oven while singing off-key to the radio that sat on the counter. He bobbed his head to the beat enthusiastically, completely unconscious that he wasn't alone. I grinned, laughing under my breath, but then my smile faded. I hated to think that I would interrupt him now – it felt _wrong_.

Not thinking, I rang the doorbell.

That seemed to be my method these days: stop over-thinking something and then it'll start to make sense. Granted, this could be my most complicated and senseless philosophy yet.

Nathaniel was at the door in a flash, and when I saw his face, I couldn't help but sigh contentedly. Seeing him had become such a rarity that every time I did lay eyes on him, it was incredibly revitalizing. For the first time in too long, I was greeted by a smile … well, more of a confused what-are-you-doing-at-my-house kind of smile.

"Hi," I said, trying my best to grin.

"Hi," He responded, gripping the door handle.

"I have something for you," I reached into my deep jacket pocket, but my hand seemed to freeze there. I gripped the invitation with locked fingers.

His inquisitive look fortunately faded and a smug one replaced it. "A surprise, eh?" He laughed under his breath.

I exhaled, happy to hear the sound of his laugh again.

"Well, come in," He offered, opening the door wider and welcoming me in.

The first room was very small and very empty. A futon was pressed up against the wall facing you when you walked in and a television sat across from it. Flanking the living space was a dining room which was poorly adorned with a foldout table and one chair.

"Sure it's not much," He shrugged. "But it's my den."

_Den_. I repeated the word in my head, and it worked. I could picture the big, warm Nathaniel as the bear in its cave. Too bad the only picture that came to mind was a teddy bear – I couldn't think him much worse than that.

"It fits you," I mused.

"You think?" He smirked.

I ran my hand through my hair, watching as his eyes scanned the room. My hand still clutched the letter in my pocket, and whenever I tried to bring it up, my throat felt constricted. I hadn't stopped to consider the emotional setbacks this could bring up; it was harder than I thought.

"So, how are you doing?" He asked.

"Better," I answered.

"Better," He repeated after me. "Does that mean it was worse before?"

"No," I shook my head. "I'm just speaking in a general sense."

He nodded, looking down at the floor.

"Each day gets …" I stopped, looking out the window. "Better."

The air grew dense.

"And you?" I asked.

"Same for me, I guess," He shrugged, rubbing the nape of his neck. "More days pass, each one usually better than the last. So I'm getting … better."

I grinned, "Better is good."

He smiled that smile I'd come to relish, and his eyebrows knitted together – not because he was puzzled but more because he was at a loss of logical things to say next.

Finally, he wondered, "What's my surprise?"

"Oh," I rubbed the paper in between my fingers inside my pocket. "Your surprise … right."

He laughed, "You expected me to forget about it even though you got me all curious? I don't think so."

"Well, I won't let you down," I pulled it out of my pocket, handing it to him. Now I couldn't take it back. "I think you'll like it. And you're the one person that I want by my side through it all."

He eagerly tore up the letter, throwing the envelope back onto the futon. His eyes lit up as he read the front cover – and my excitement grew. I knew Mason had been wrong. I knew Nathaniel would be as overjoyed as I was.

"Isn't it great?" I grinned.

He bit his lip, his smile slowly curving downward. I could see as his eyes scanned across the same sentence over and over again, and immediately my hopes plummeted. I began to play with my hair behind my back nervously.

"Are you going to say anything?" I wondered.

His eyes shot from the invitation to mine, and there was a ferocity there that I had never seen in those eyes before.

"Is this some kind of joke?" He spat.

A flood of desolation flew through my body all at once, a full-blown epidemic all taking place in one person. "I-I …" I stuttered.

"What? Do you want my blessing?"

"I want your support," My mouth went dry.

He shook his head as if I'd just spoken in gibberish. "Why in hell would I support this? Are you even kidding me?"

"I thought you'd be happy …"

He interrupted, "Happy? Do you know how long I've wanted to hold a wedding invitation that had your name on it in my hands? I just never thought that it would be with him … and not with me."

I was agape. "Nathaniel, I-I had no id–"

"Don't say you had no idea," He fumed. "You've known all along how I felt about you. I told you everything. But I guess it never really clicked for you until just now that everything I said was the absolute truth."

"I know you care about me," I sighed. "But I can't …"

"Stop it!" He yelled, making me jolt. "Stop saying you can't love me! What's holding you back? What's in the way? I don't know about you, but it always seemed to me that you just immediately got in the mindset that you _couldn__'__t_ love me, that it was just completely out of the question."

"I …" The tears came now.

"Did you ever stop to consider that I'm real?" He asked brusquely. "I'm not a character in one of your stories, Scarlett. You can't bend me to think or feel whatever fits into your lifestyle."

"You fit into my lifestyle," I whimpered. "You're my best friend."

"Oh, that's right," He frowned. "Nathaniel, the best friend, stands to the side as he watches the girl that he loved get married to the rich, smart, perfect doctor."

I said nothing.

"I'm not perfect, and I admit it," He exhaled. "But I guess everyone has their own idea of faultless. Every time you look at him, I can tell what you're thinking for once – that's the only thing I can predict with you."

"I love him" was all I could muster.

"Of course you do," He chuckled flatly. "One guy remotely similar to Edward Cullen comes along and you're head over heels. Why am I not surprised?"

"Nathaniel, I still love you, too …" I tried to reason with him.

"You know what?" He interrupted. "Just get out of my house."

"What?" I stepped back as if he'd slapped me in the face.

He started walking towards me, a threatening tint to his glare. Immediately frightened, I stumbled backwards and out the front door which had been left ajar. The rain had started to grow heavier by now, but it felt a hundred pounds heavier than it was as it beat against my shoulders.

"Go home," He grunted sternly.

"I can't leave you," The rain disguised my tears scantily.

I heard Adam get out of the car behind me, slamming the door shut behind him. Nathaniel looked at him questioningly only for a moment but then ignored him.

"Leaving is simple," Nathaniel shook his head. "Like ripping off a Band-Aid."

"B-but coming back is the hard part. So why leave?"

"To make it easier," He snapped. "Maybe you just shouldn't come back."

My heart seemed to dissolve at that very moment, its remnants falling down to the soles of my feet. But it wasn't just the Nathaniel part that split – the whole thing shattered into a million little pieces. Was I so impossible that if one part of me broke then the whole thing was completely useless?

"Nate," I felt Adam grab me from behind. "I think that's enough."

"She should know how bad I hurt all those months while she was off on cloud nine," Nathaniel's voice was unconscionably impulsive. "She deserves to feel what she put me through."

Adam pushed me behind him, standing as a wall between Nathaniel and me. "I think you should at least show some courtesy. She came out here to apologize."

"No, she came out here to rub her relationship in my face," Nathaniel shouted. "She thought it'd be funny to come tell me about her wedding."

"You're getting married?" Adam turned to look at me.

"And you didn't even tell anyone else?" Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "I guess the joke really is on me."

Adam gripped my arm tighter, but the contact felt like a dull tingling feeling – everything was blurring. "Nate, I think that's enough. You're going a little too far." His equanimity was impressive to say the least, though.

"Too far?" Nathaniel pushed around Adam forcefully, pulling me out of his grasp. He snarled, "She can't even imagine how much she hurt me. She doesn't even care, I bet."

"I care about you," My voice sounded far away. Despite his violent glare, I stepped forward, shaking my head. "You can't send me away. If being your friend is all I can do to be around you, then I'll do it."

His voice grew louder. "But being my friend isn't all you can do!"

"Nate," Adam warned – even he was losing his temper.

"Choose, Scarlett," He shook Adam's arm off his shoulder. He reached forward, gripping my hand. "But think about it first. Who is better for you? Mason doesn't care about what's good for you. He left you without considering the pain you had to go through. I won't ever hurt you."

Suddenly, Nathaniel's hand around mine stung.

I whipped my hand away, stepping back. "You won't ever hurt me?"

"No," Nathaniel shook his head, trying to push aside his anger.

I stammered incredulously, "T-then what are you doing right now?"

Nathaniel was about to speak but then clapped his mouth shut again. Almost out of instinct, he tried to reach for me but, out of the blue, I turned and I ran.

I'd never been a very fast runner, but I guess now the situation was different. I wasn't on a track, I wasn't in short little gym shorts trying to get a good grade, I wasn't panting and huffing, I wasn't running for the finish line …

I was running _from_ the starting line.

"Scarlett!" I could hear Adam calling my name, and for awhile it sounded like he was right behind me – there was no doubt in my mind that he would be capable of keeping up – but after awhile his voice faded away.

Following Route 101 and pressing my legs as fast as they could go, I continued to run in the rain, my sneakers slapping against the pavement. Rarely would a car go by and occasionally I would hear a deer dashing into the woods when it heard me coming, but otherwise I was alone. Eventually, the sound of my heaving breaths and my shoes were drowned out by the pouring rain – which was now unleashing its full wrath upon me at the worst possible moment.

I must've been running for twenty minutes, my body telling me to stop but my heartbeat pounding too hard to let me. Finally, my legs felt like twigs about to snap, so I skidded to a stop, my shoes making a small wave of broken up asphalt that crowded the shoulder around me.

The rain was coming down hard now, harder than it had before. I tried to run my hand through my hair, but couldn't – my hair was stringy and soaking wet, tangling stubbornly. Pulling the hood of my jacket over my head and putting my hands in my pocket, I began to walk.

Looking forward, I could tell I hadn't even reached the halfway mark between La Push and Forks. Maybe running wasn't such a good idea; that only meant it would take me longer to get back home … too much time to think.

Mason had been right, and I was stupid.

I should've stopped to think about all this – just like Mason had said, this was turning into an irreversible pattern. Sure, I hated it, but I was almost positive Nathaniel and Mason hated it more. They had to sit through my insolence time after time and instinctively stretch their arms out in just the right place at just the right moment to catch me every time I fell.

Interrupting my thoughts, I heard something squish under my foot.

It was mud and it crawled out from under my shoe like blood. Looking back, I noted the shoulder had become less clear – instead of the rocky gravel, it was now oozing sludge. With the rain, the mud began to slither down the bank in little brown ribbons and into the tree line. I stepped up onto the street, rubbing the bottom of my sneaker along the pavement and scrapping at least some of the dirt away.

I was about to continue walking when I heard a rumbling sound behind me.

Turning, I saw a gigantic semi, its load stacked high with enormous logs, barreling towards me from the direction I'd come. Immediately, I jumped off the road and back into the disgusting shoulder. As the rig passed me, it kicked up some of the watery dirt and splashed it at my shins.

"Ugh," I recoiled. Just my luck.

After that, I decided to stay on the shoulder, figuring that, since I was already a mess, why bother until I got home?

_Home_, I exhaled.

Such a word seemed nonexistent anymore. Sure, that Swan-ish house of mine was where I wanted to be, but was it where I belonged? Hmm, I guessed wherever Mason went was where I had to be.

My thoughts raced.

_What__would__become__of__the__girl__who__got__everything__she__wanted?_ I had a home in the exact place I wanted to be, I had a good job, I had my friends … but most importantly, I had Mason. _Would__she__waste__away__just__like__everyone__else?__Rot__in__a__grave__somewhere,__eventually__to__be__forgotten?_Would I really let myself become a conformist in the most conventional way … death?

The answer was yes.

I laughed at myself. To think of dying as conformity was typical of me. We all bleed the same, we all cry the same, and we'll all die the same – this proves that we're all only _human_. And some of us, who feel uncertain of what we are, will do anything to prove that we're human – to bleed to know that you can bleed, to cry to know that you can cry, and die just to know you're alive.

…

Hmm, such a thought confused me – and it was hard to think of something powerful enough to follow it.

Over time, the sky began to darken and the storm grew heavier. It would be nightfall soon, and I knew that I still had at least a half-hour of walking ahead of me. Shaking my head, I'd known that I'd broken the promise I made to Mason – this unsuccessful mission of mine would end as the other had; I would arrive back home in the late hours of the night, shuffle upstairs and look into my bedroom to find Mason there waiting for me.

I would apologize and he would forgive me.

Just like he always did.

He didn't have to forgive me, though, because I didn't deserve it. If someone has to apologize so much that it becomes habitual, then they shouldn't be forgiven. It's just the way things worked – the way things had to be.

Again my thoughts were interrupted by the roar of an engine, and normally I wouldn't have looked up. But the sound was piercing – the engine was being revved so high that the person had to be doing well over ninety miles per hour. I stopped walking and stood facing the direction of Forks, a small spec in the distance getting closer and closer. Next thing I knew, a car swooshed past me, so fast that it simply glided over the puddles instead of kicking up a flume of water to splash me.

Ignoring it, I started walking again.

I hadn't taken even five steps, though, before the same car came back to me in reverse, slower now. I turned to look at it – it was a silver Volvo.

It parked and I stopped.

The driver side door swung open, and Mason emerged. His face was strained, as if he'd done too much worrying in the past few hours. As his blue eyes searched mine for an explanation, I looked down at the pavement, watching the rain rebound around us.

Mason shook his head. "What happened to you?"

I remained silent, watching his face.

He walked up to me, the rain beginning to drip off his chin. Lifting his hand, he pushed my hair off my cheek.

I sniffed. "D-don't say I told you so."

He exhaled, closing his eyes for a long time before looking back up at me. "I'll beat him up for you … if you'd want that."

I laughed flatly. "Be my guest."


	24. Chapter 19

_**This **__**is **__**an **__**especially **__**long **__**chapter. **__**But, **__**since **__**it**__**'**__**s **__**the **__**climax, **__**there **__**was **__**really **__**no **__**page **__**breaks **__**where **__**I **__**could **__**easily **__**split **__**it into two parts. **__**So, **__**just **__**bear **__**with **__**the **__**length. **__**I **__**promise **__**it**__**'**__**ll **__**be **__**worth **__**it.**_

I thought Mason was the answer to my questions.

But not even he could keep the nightmares away. For the first time in months, my fears were resurrected and the nightmare returned to me. And this time, it was worse than it had ever been. Because, in one night, the dream went on …

Over and over and over again.

I went to bed around nine o'clock with Mason by my side the night I got back from Nathaniel's. I woke up around eleven-thirty, kicking and screaming and bawling. Mason was shocked, and I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn't quite sure what to do. He had grown up in a house full of boys and I doubted that Madison ever had any problems like this. So he did all he could do.

He held me in his arms and whispered in my ear until my shrieks turned into whimpers. And he continued to do so until my whimpers disappeared into the night air and I fell asleep again.

Only to wake up at one o'clock.

Now Mason had some idea of what to do. He woke instantly, grabbing me by the stomach and pulling me close to him. He gently pulled my hair out of my face and pulled the sheets back over us. I fell asleep faster this time, because, as he continued to stroke my hair, I had that secure feeling that he was right beside me.

However, I awoke again at three.

My screams were piercing and so painful that you would think someone cut my legs off. Much to my surprise, the screaming and the crying went on for a long time and Mason's arms never locked around me. I had to have been thrashing for twenty straight minutes before I eventually calmed myself down.

When the tears began to dry away and I could see clearly again, I looked up to see Mason sitting at the desk, his chair turned to face me. He smiled a tired grin, to reassure me that nothing was wrong.

"You done?" His eyebrow rose.

"I-I can't be sure," I sniveled.

He stood, "Let's get back to bed, shall we?"

"I'll just w-wake you up again," I challenged.

Shuffling over the bed and picking up the blankets I'd kicked onto the floor, he climbed into bed beside. After wrapping the blankets around me, he murmured silently into my ear, "Don't worry about me."

He was prepared this time around – he grabbed a wet washcloth off of the nightstand that hadn't been sitting there when I went to sleep last. He huddled over me protectively, as if he were holding a small child in his arms, as he wiped my head with the rag. I was sweaty all over, and the washcloth didn't do much good, but his efforts were admirable. If the situation were in reverse (which I highly doubted as a possibility), I don't know what I would've done under the pressure.

He was good at taking care of me.

And the fact that we'd dated before had to contribute to the tally in some way. He was skilled for the job, more skilled than any guy really could be. But I knew that skill wasn't all it took – I could go off listing what I thought were the ideal qualities in a guy at this moment, but I knew that I had no ideals when it came to things like this. I loved him because he loved me, and wasn't that reason enough?

As I drifted back to sleep, the nightmare came again.

I considered waking myself in any way necessary, to avoid the paroxysm that was sure to follow when I woke up. However, I noticed that the nightmare was different – well, not different. Just silent.

It was as if the little monster controlling this dream was so fed up with my predictable reaction that he had fallen asleep and sat on the remote. Everything was soundless, completely mute. I saw my lips moving as I called for Mason, but I could not hear my voice. I saw the heartbreak in Nathaniel's eyes as he spoke but I couldn't hear him say the cursed words that I don't dare repeat now.

However, what broke my heart the most was that I didn't get to hear Mason. I didn't get to hear his succulent voice say my name. And it burned inside, more than I thought it would, to see his face but not hear him. As a whole, his brilliance was unbeatable, but with just a single part, the part of sound, missing, it felt unevenly aberrant.

"Goodbye," I saw him mouth.

And, deaf or not, that single word still flooded through me like poison, taking up every last breath of life I had in me.

Even though I did not wake up this time, I could still feel a fit raging inside me. The fiery sensation of insecurity never went away and neither did the qualm that I was only bulletproof to an extent. The day would come where I would have to make that decision that could tear one friendship in half or burn one relationship to the ground. But, even though the thought had occurred to me before, it just now took foremost effect.

I didn't _want_ to choose.

Being with one meant losing the other, which I couldn't tolerate. It would only feel unnatural to be in Nathaniel's house, to be in Nathaniel's arms in a way that I hadn't before, and to know that Mason was gone for good because I sent him away. Nonetheless, to live on with this life of mine with Mason – completely Nathaniel-less – was nothing to look forward to either.

There was no way to have both, but there was no way to have one and not the other.

Depressed by all my circulating thoughts, I eventually I fell into a softer sleep, not as restless as before. I let the feeling of Mason's arm around me be my salvation; I tried to keep that thought dominant, the thought of Mason.

Dawn neared and I awoke to the sound of voices coming from downstairs. The first thing I noticed when I rubbed my eyes was that I was alone. The second thing I noticed was that my eyes stung violently – all the crying last night had more damaging repercussions than I had expected.

"I'm getting worried about her," Mason's voice echoed.

I stood, immediately chilled to the bone. Wrapping my arms around myself, I made my way out to the hallway.

Lilli's voice followed Mason's. "Don't be."

"Why not?" He sounded brusque. "She'd told me that she had nightmares while I was gone, but last night was just … I had no idea they were that bad. I can only imagine what she saw."

"She's coping," Lilli told him.

"Coping?" He spat. "That's how she copes? She was sadistic!"

"Hey," Lilli couldn't help but raise her voice, provoked. However, she continued to speak in a lower tone. "This is a rough time for her. The thing Scarlett is most afraid of is _change_ and, right now, this is the most change she's encountered in a long time."

"Are you saying …?" He paused to think. "Maybe the wedding _is_ too soon."

"I'm not going to be the judge of that," She replied. "But … just keep in mind how she's feeling when you talk to her for the next couple of weeks."

There was a gap of silence.

"Don't do anything stupid," She said finally.

"Don't do anything stupid?" He repeated after her, noticeably aggravated. "I have been watching where I step since I got here. I know she and I are incredibly close, but sometimes it feels like I couldn't be farther away from her. She just puts up this … wall, and I can't stand it."

"She doesn't keep you out, though," Lilli shook her head.

"No," He took a deep breath. "But it wasn't until last night that I realized she is more delicate than I could've ever imagined. I had no idea …." He stopped.

And again, there was a pause.

"And you left her alone all those months?" He laughed skeptically.

"She had Coop and Krista," I heard a chair creak. "But now Krista's lost it completely and it won't be long before she pushes Coop away out of fear that she'll upset him. That's something she can't live with – upsetting people."

Mason exhaled, "I'll try to talk to her."

"Don't worry her," Lilli warned. "If you tell her you're concerned, she'll assume it's because of a certain Quileute, and immediately she'll think things are breaking up between you. Don't give her reason to believe she has to save your relationship when she doesn't have to."

"Would she even want to?" Mason's voice was small.

Instantly, I felt guilty for causing him all this misery.

"Of course she would," Lilli said, her tone hinting it was obvious. "You're her life now, and hurting her is like ripping the floor out from under her. When she falls, she falls _hard_ …"

He interrupted, "I get it."

There was a long moment of silence before Lilli spoke again, "You are giving up, aren't you?" Her voice was mocking.

Mason said nothing.

"Did you forget how emotional she is after all of those years apart?" Lilli exhaled. "Well, I hope you know that you can't leave her now whether this is too much for you or not."

Again there was silence.

"Are you going to say anything?" Lilli's voice rose.

"She's awake," I heard a chair skid across the wood floor and then footsteps coming towards the steps.

I hurried back down the hall and into the bedroom; I couldn't let him know that I had been listening. I walked into my closet, pretending that I had been doing something else when I heard footsteps coming up the staircase.

"Are you up?" I heard Mason call.

"Yeah," I replied, walking out of the closet.

He walked in, a genuine smile on his face. He was good at hiding how he felt, and if I hadn't heard what I heard, I would've assumed nothing was wrong.

"Good morning," He grinned, walking forward and kissing me softly.

"Ready for work?" I asked him.

"Uh-huh," He nodded, walking over to his laptop and rubbing the trackpad. "I have breakfast ready for you downstairs."

"Thanks," I sighed.

I left him then and went to the bathroom. Leaning against the sink, I stared at myself in the mirror – my puffy cheeks were a clear reminder of the tears, but the frown lines that I had expected to return had not. I didn't have the energy to climb into the shower, so I simply splashed some water on my face, trying to get the tearstains to go away. They wouldn't.

After dressing quickly, Mason and I were out the door in no time. Without a word, he climbed into the driver's side of my Chevy and I climbed in the other side. I supposed he could tell that I wasn't in a very verbose mood, so we drove in silence. I, however, couldn't stand the silence. I turned on the radio – just so it could serve as quiet background noise that could sooth my pulsing thoughts.

Once we reached the hospital, he parked but didn't get out.

"Is everything alright?" I wondered, looking over at him.

"How much did you hear?" He asked, his voice steady.

I paused, considering if I should tell him or lie. Finally I said, "Enough."

He nodded, exhaling. Even though my eyes were locked on him, he never turned to look at me; he kept his eyes straight.

"Are you fed up with me?" I wondered.

He didn't respond, but his gaze fell down to his hands.

I sighed, "It's understandable if you are."

"I'm not fed up with you," He shook his head. "It would be horrible of me to leave when I know that this is when you need me most."

My eyes fell on a smudge on the windshield and stayed there. "I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for?" His eyes flashed to me then.

"Last night," I shook my head. "Everything last night. I made a promise with you and I broke it."

He smiled slightly, but then it faded. "And what promise would that be?"

I bit my lip. "That you don't have to worry about me."

Mason surprised me by laughing.

"What's so funny?" I looked over at him.

"I kind of knew from the start that that wasn't a promise you'd be able to keep," He shook his head. "You're Scarlett Posey, prone to making people worry."

"But I don't mean to be," I exhaled.

"It's alright," He shrugged. "I like worrying about you."

"You like to worry?" The phrase made no sense.

"Not to worry in general," He smiled. "But if it's over you, sure."

I looked down at my hands.

"Isn't that kind of my job?" He chuckled under his breath, but then the joyous noise dissipated into the rain. "I feel like it's my job to take care of you. Last night, when you kept waking up, it was a test for me."

My eyes retreated to him.

"I was afraid," I could tell he hated to admit it. "I felt that if I didn't survive through last night then I wouldn't be able to handle the rest of my life with you."

"Well," I smiled at him comfortingly. "You pass."

He smirked, "Did all your boyfriends have to go through training to learn how to take care of you?"

"I tell you I'm desperate," I shook my head. "But you don't believe me."

He looked away from me, his mouth curving into a frown. "I don't want to believe you. I know you're stronger than that."

I exhaled, "Then yes. All my boyfriends had to go through training."

Mason looked out the windshield again.

I focused on that smudge that I had looked away from. "It's a skill to take care of me. And you're getting pretty good at it."

He remained indifferent. "I'll try to take care of you the best I can."

"Hmm," I looked away.

The rain pounded down like fists and I dreaded leaving the warm, dry cabin of my truck. I turned to Mason and watched as his eyes began to focus in on a single strip of siding on the side of the hospital.

Without having to think about it, I scooted closer to him and leaned into his chest, his warmth like a refuge to me. He was surprised at first, but then he lifted his hand and rested it on my back.

I looked up at him. "I can't wait till March 17th."

"You're not scared anymore?" He exhaled.

"I have no reason to be," I shook my head.

"What if Nathaniel doesn't show up?" He asked. "Or what if he does?"

The name stung, but I ignored it. "I won't care."

He laughed flatly. "Sorry, but I doubt you won't care."

"Well, of course I'll care," I shrugged. "But I won't show it."

* * *

><p>The workday was monotonous, but fortunately quick.<p>

I was nodding off the whole way, though – waking up so much last night had exhausted me and I had to fight to keep my eyelids open. Every couple of minutes, Mason would walk by and tap his hand against the counter, snapping me out of my haze. I appreciated his help; without his incessant wakeup calls, I probably would've been out of it completely.

Coop was incredibly busy with inpatients, although none of them were intense or too serious. There was an eight-year-old with a broken leg and an elderly woman on a respirator and a middle-aged man who complained of a stomach ache that kept Dr. Cooper busy throughout the day. It wasn't until around three-thirty that he approached my desk.

He leaned against it, resting his head down against his palm and closing his eyes as he mumbled, "Thank God it's Friday."

"You look like I feel," I exhaled.

"Oh, yeah," Coop's eyes opened but they were still droopy. "Mason told me about your little freak parade last night."

My eyes widened.

"Don't worry. Those are my words, not his," He put up his hands defensively. He exhaled deeply before continuing, "I guess it would've been nice for one of us to tell him how high maintenance you are."

"I'm not high maintenance," I shook my head.

"Just emotionally distraught," He jokingly corrected.

I rolled my eyes, standing up and placing some files into the cabinet.

"I was also told about a certain visit to a certain Indian Reservation," Coop continued on to say. "Poor thing."

"Who's the poor thing?" I exhaled, irritated.

"Mason and Nathaniel, of course," He shook his head.

"And what about me?" I frowned.

"Well, _they_ are the ones that have to deal with you," He chuckled. "But I guess you could be classified as a poor thing."

"Hmm," I sat back down again.

"I mean, after all," Coop grinned. "You had to walk home in that crazy storm. I was afraid to even look outside during that thing – let alone, walk several miles in it."

Shaking my head again, I exhaled.

Almost like a flashback, but not cliché enough to be one, memories of yesterday came flooding back to me with the same ferocity as the downpour that dampened that fateful night. With the same ferocity that had imprisoned what used to be the calmest most loving eyes I'd ever seen. I wanted to believe that Nathaniel didn't mean all those things he'd said, but it was hard; I never meant to upset him that way, and now as his face flickered before my eyes, it was easy to assume that he would never want to talk to me again.

I closed my eyes slowly. "Coop?"

"Yes?" His voice infiltrated the welcomed darkness behind my closed eyes.

I opened my eyes again to see Coop's smiling face. "Do think things will work out? Do you think he'll trust me again?"

Coop exhaled, "I'm a doctor. Not a soothsayer."

"I'm stupid," I sighed, angry with myself all of a sudden. "Nathaniel put his trust in me, and Mason tried to tell me what would happen … but I was stupid."

"You're not stupid," Coop denied.

My eyebrow rose. "Shall I give some examples?"

"Let's not and say we did," Coop chuckled. "Yeah, I guess the past can vouch for you on the stupidity theory."

I cleared my throat. "Maybe time'll work things out for me."

"I don't think so, sweetheart," Coop shook his head. "This is something you have to do. You can't count on time to do the fixing."

I looked down at the linoleum counter, my eyes tracing the geometric pattern.

"These violent delights have violent ends," I recited, the words floating off my tongue as if they originally came out of my mouth to start with. "And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume."

I could feel myself becoming more secluded with the passing seconds, and I knew that Coop could tell. It seemed that whenever I retreated to reciting _Romeo__&__Juliet_, it was out of some hope that my life was more insignificant than I tried to give it credit for; it were as if I was trying to remind myself that it could always be more tragic than it actually was.

"Now, now, baby doll," Coop chuckled.

My eyes floated up to him.

"Everything's going to be okay," he reassured me.

A nurse called Coop away then, and he left me with a simple goodbye. And the rest of the day went on slowly – I wasn't dozing off anymore, though. There was too much to think about, too much to keep my thoughts whirling. Finally, five o'clock rolled around and I was able to go home.

Mason and I drove back home in mostly silence; I tried to make conversation with him, but he knew that space was all I needed, so he responded in one word phrases or sentences that didn't have to be replied to. Once we reached home, Mason helped me out of the car and up the slippery walk.

The rain was pounding down on us hard, so we made a mad dash for the door. By the malevolently blowing leaves and the whirling wind, it was easy to tell that the storm wouldn't be ending anytime soon.

As Mason unlocked the door, I shivered.

He noticed. "You should've worn a warmer jacket today."

"I know," I nodded, looking out into the woods.

I heard the lock click, but Mason didn't open the door.

After a few moments of just standing there, I turned to look at him. "What's the matter?"

"You're the matter," He answered.

I said nothing; I just looked down.

"Talk to me, Scarlett," He turned to look at me. "Don't shut me out."

"I don't mean to," I shook my head.

"Well, it doesn't seem like that sometimes," he exhaled. He leaned against the front door and sighed, "I understand that you're upset, but you're acting like someone just died."

I focused in on the obscurity inside the forest.

Mason's arm wrapped around my waist. "Is anybody in there?"

I looked up at him. "I'm sorry I'm being distant all the time. I don't know why … I'm just sorry."

"I understand," He nodded. "This is hard for you, and I know that. But, please, don't be like this much longer – I can't stand it."

"I won't," I agreed. I didn't like how I was acting either.

He pushed open the door then, holding it open for me to enter in front of him. Lilli was sitting on the couch in the living room when we walked in, but she was on her feet seconds later, ready to greet us. Mason got started on dinner as Lilli and I looked on from the kitchen table.

"I went job-shopping today," She told us, leaning back in her chair. "Just something to keep me preoccupied until the final manga transcript comes in. It should be shipped over from Japan in a couple of weeks."

"Any luck?" Mason asked as he hovered over the stove.

"Yeah," She nodded. "There's a local bookstore up in Port Angeles that offered me a shift. It's a bit shorter than the hospital's, so I should be home a little before you guys."

"I'm glad you're settling," I half-smiled, staring at the floor.

"It's so great to be back," She grinned. "I forgot how much I loved Forks."

"Ugh, not you too," Mason groaned, laughing.

"Well, I'm not as diehard as Scarlett is," She shook her head, drumming her fingers against the table. "I would be able to leave Forks, perhaps with some hesitation, but I would be able to do it nonetheless. Scarlett, though …" She laughed. "I don't know about her."

"I know what you mean," Mason chuckled. "I've been trying to get her out of this gray nightmare for months."

The phone rang then.

"Good luck with that," Lilli stood to get it.

My eyes followed her as she picked up the phone, and then my eyes floated over to window. The rain was beginning to fall harder and get louder, blurring my focus. Before I could space out completely, I felt an arm wrap around me. Looking up, I saw Mason's face mere inches from mine – and suddenly, everything was okay when I got lost in those eyes.

I knew he could tell by looking at me that my mind had switched from isolated to intoxicated – and I knew he liked that, because it meant getting my mind off everything else. He chuckled, my pulse beating even more fitfully.

"Feeling better?" He chuckled.

"A little," I sighed, and then I added, "Now."

Lilli's voice caught our attention, "I'll go pack my stuff. No, I can leave tonight. That's fine. Just let me say my final goodbyes and then we'll meet up for dinner, okay? If you want to pick me up that's fine. Alright. Bye."

"Who was that?" I wondered.

"Anthony," She answered, hanging up. "He got back from Japan early."

"Who's Anthony?" Mason's eyebrow rose.

"Current boyfriend," I answered. "She's moving in with him."

Mason's lips curved into a clever smile. "You're leaving?"

"Don't get too exited, buddy," Lilli rolled her eyes. "I'm only going to be, like, a half-hour away."

"It's not that you're leaving," Mason shook his head. "It's just that now, we get the house all to ourselves." Mason leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"I thought you said he lived in Seattle?" I wondered after Mason left my side. "That's more than a half-hour away, for sure."

"He lives halfway between here and there," She sighed, heading for the foyer. "I'm going to pack. Anthony said he's on his way here right now."

She was up the stairs before we could say anything more.

"You know what this means now, right?" I asked him.

"What?" He grinned.

"We're not leaving Forks."

"Just because Lilli's leaving doesn't mean that we can't," He turned off the boiler and walked over to the refrigerator.

"Yes, it does," I challenged. "There is no way this house is going on the market. So we have no choice _but_ to stay."

"You don't have to stay with the house," He still defied me.

"Of course I do," I shook my head. "Do you know how much of a headache I had to go through to get this house built? Besides, I got here less than a year ago – there's no point in leaving now."

He grinned, "Alright. We'll let it be."

I sighed, settling down.

Then he added, "For now."

Mason and I decided to eat in the living room instead of the kitchen tonight; I began to notice, though, that almost always our dinners were never at the table. I didn't feel like watching a _Twilight__Saga_ movie, which was a surprise to us both. Instead, we watched television, flipping between a football game and the news.

I didn't mind watching either of those, even though I was a fan of neither.

I wasn't really paying attention anyway. Mason sat on one side of the couch, eyes locked on the screen, while my head rested on his lap and my legs stretched to the opposite side. I stared up at the ceiling, concentrating on a crack that was beginning to form in the ceiling. The house was barely over a year old and already it was starting fall apart at the seams; I imaginatively pictured this house splitting in two like a zipper as Mason cursed at the opposing team that had just scored a touchdown.

After about twenty minutes, Lilli came loudly down the steps with her bags in tow. Mason and I got up from the couch to help her with her luggage and to see her out.

"I'm going to miss you," I reached forward and gave her a hug.

"Not as much as you think you will," She smiled, hugging me tightly back. "You've had ten months to detach yourself from me, so this should be easy for you."

I pulled away.

She smirked. "You've got enough to keep you busy anyway."

She eyed Mason, a certain tint of distaste in her glare. In turn, he laughed under his breath, looking down at the floor to hide his smile.

"Let's forget this bad blood you guys have for ten seconds, shall we?" I exhaled, stepping back and stuffing my hands into my back jean pockets. "C'mon. Hug goodbye."

"Ugh," Mason groaned. "Don't make me …"

Lilli stepped forward, hugging him against his will. "You can deal with five seconds, Ryder."

He paused. "I never realized how short you are."

"Hey," She pulled away keenly. "Don't mock the vertically challenged. We're people too, you know."

Ah, I would miss her sarcasm.

"Hmm," He laughed. "I found her pet peeve: her dumpiness."

"I wouldn't go there if I were you," Lilli warned.

I put my hands up, separating the two of them, saying jokingly, "Now guys. This is supposed to be a sentimental goodbye. Let's act civilized for once."

"I'm civilized!" Mason complained teasingly, grabbing my hand and pulling me against him.

"When you choose to be," I shrugged.

Lilli peeked over her shoulder and saw a black Lincoln pulling into the driveway. "Well, that's my ride."

"An MKX, huh?" Mason wrapped his arm around my waist. "You couldn't have peaked for a little richer than that? I mean, c'mon, a little higher and you would have hit my standards."

"And _why_ would I want that?" Lilli taunted.

She was picking up her bags when there was a knock on the door.

Through the paned door, I could see Anthony. He was tall with ruffled black hair that flipped down to his eyebrows. His eyes were a gorgeous shade of bright green, reminding me of Coop, however, there was somewhat of a murky, dark shadow around the rims of his pupils. Overall, he looked like just the type of guy Lilli would go for.

She opened the door for him immediately.

"Hey," He greeted her first, kissing her gently.

When he pulled away, the two looked at each other affectionately before turning to Mason and me. In that look, I could tell that they really cared for each other; it was the way that Adam looked at Robyn, with that faith that they could see something no one else could. And I began to wonder …

Did Mason look at me that way?

I would never know, considering I was too busy trying to pace my breathing whenever his eyes fell on me.

"Anthony," Lilli introduced me, his arms remaining promptly around her. "This is my roommate, Scarlett. We've known each other for what seems like forever."

"Hi," I extended my hand.

He shook it in return. "Hi."

"Sorry if she looks kind of dazed," Lilli continued on to say. "She's probably studying your face so she can incorporate you into one of her stories."

"I was not," I shook my head, but then I started to think. A writer's mind is never at rest – so even though it wasn't the foremost thought in my mind, I was most likely doing it subconsciously.

"Oh, so the best friend and the storywriter are the same person?" He laughed. I listened closer to his voice, noticing it was very smooth and careful.

"You've heard about me?" I smiled.

"How could I not?" He chuckled. "When Lilli first talked about you, I would have sworn you two were sisters or something. It sounds to me that you've spent your whole lives together."

"That's pretty much right," She shrugged. "Oh, and this is Scarlett's fiancé … what was your name again?"

"Shut up," He rolled his eyes.

"I don't remember that being your name," She joked.

"They don't like each other very much," I told Anthony.

"I can tell," He replied, pulling Lilli back and telling her, "Play nice."

Mason chuckled, pretending to look up the stairs but really just turning to whisper in my ear, "Thank God he's here to pull her away."

I punched him in the stomach.

"I'm Mason, by the way," He introduced himself.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Anthony nodded politely.

"Not really," Lilli shook her head, laughing.

Mason looked at Anthony. "You and I have to stick together in this, man. These are possibly the most tenacious girls on the planet."

"Thanks for the heads-up," Anthony picked up the majority of Lilli's bags. "Looks like I'm going to need all the help I can get."

Lilli rolled her eyes, opening the front door and starting down the steps, Anthony right behind her. When the two reached the front walk, Lilli turned to look at us.

"See you at your wedding," She smiled widely, but then her face grew sincere. "Hang in there, Scarlett."

"I'll take care of her," Mason promised.

They shed their caustic tones whenever I became the topic, I'd noticed. Perhaps because I was their only common ground.

She stood there for a long time before nodding and heading to the car. Anthony was already in the driver's seat and was starting the engine when she loaded the last of her bags into the trunk. Once she disappeared into the passenger side, the rain erratically began to pound harder, as if it were an omen of what was to come. I ignored it, though; instead, I stood in the doorway blankly, watching the MKX back out of the driveway and turn down the street.

I just then realized how many cars I'd watch back out of that driveway. And I just then noticed how few of them came back. The only car I remember returning with any degree of permanence was Mason's. Was that supposed to mean something? Or was I making a bigger deal out of it than necessary?

Most likely, I was.

Snapping me out of it, Mason left my side and headed back into the living room. I heard him sit down on the couch and exhale. I didn't leave the doorway, though; I remained there until a swarm of mist was caught in every strand of my hair.

Finally, Mason sighed, "Now I don't have to share you with anyone."

I shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. "Yeah."

"You alright?" He wondered. "You should come inside before you freeze."

"I'm fine," I shook my head, looking out into the woods.

I heard the couch creak and Mason's footsteps getting closer. I expected his arms to wrap around me, but when they didn't I turned, and saw him leaning against the banister and looking up at the ceiling.

"You know what?" He smiled, his eyes floating down to me.

"What?" I turned, shutting the door, and then looked back at him.

He stepped forward, resting his forehead against mine. "This is tragic, Juliet."

I smiled. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

He pushed forward, his lips briefly connecting with mine. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe my sweetheart is heartbroken."

My eyes searched his. "Not entirely."

"But heartbroken all the same," He sighed.

I bit my lip. "Yes."

"Well, then it is my job to rescue what's left of you, love, before you wither away completely," He lifted his hands, cradling them around my head. "Otherwise, there will be nothing left of the girl I fell in love with."

He pulled my face into his.

When he stopped, I grew impatient. "She's still here. That girl is still here."

"I don't believe you," He shook his head.

"Believe me," I exhaled. "She's here and she needs you."

"Oh, so you're going for the damsel in distress card now?" He laughed. "Well, I don't think I could portray a very good superhero. Capes and radioactive spiders aren't really my forte."

I giggled.

He paused, prolonging the moment. "But there is something I am good at."

"What's that?" I wondered, curious.

He stepped back, leaning against the banister again and crossing his arms across his chest. "It's a secret. I don't know if I should tell you."

"Oh, that's not fair," I reached out for him, but he stepped away from my hand and into the living room. "You can't tell someone you have a secret and then not tell them what it is."

"Is that so?" He chuckled, sitting down on the couch.

I sat down beside him, nodding. "It is."

"Hmm," He looked up at the television and then back at me. "So I'm _inclined_ to tell you now?"

"Yes," I smiled as he wrapped his arm around me.

"You promise not to tell anyone?" He turned to face me.

"Mason …" I was getting edgy.

"No complaints. Otherwise, I won't tell you," He interrupted. "Promise me."

I rolled my eyes. "I promise I won't tell."

He leaned forward, pushing me onto my back and lying on top of me. He bent down, his face millimeters away from mine – I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead, he murmured into my ear, "I love you."

"That's not a secret," I pulled his face to mine so I could see his eyes.

"Well, then how come I'm the only one that seems to know?" He asked.

I stopped, mulling over his words. "Oh," I said.

He nodded. "Are you having an epiphany?"

"I am," I exhaled. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," He smiled.

"I didn't know how detached I was being," I sighed as he leaned down and started to kiss my jaw line. "I didn't forget about you, I promise. I'm sorry for being so unpredictable."

"Your eccentricity is unremitting," He mused.

Leaning in, he kissed me again, this time longer. The touch was like an electric shock running through my veins, the blood boiling under my papery skin.

I decided to forget.

Forget everything with Krista, with Nathaniel, everything. Sure, tonight would not last forever and tomorrow would bring reminders that real life still existed, but, for tonight, I dropped everything from the past. I only saw my wedding. And, of course, Mason in the present. Right now was all that mattered to me, and the future was a mystery that I didn't feel like solving right now.

He must've been able to tell that I had partially resolved myself for now, because I pushed myself into him more forcefully. It was as if I were trying to mold us into one person. I could feel his lips on mine curve into a smile as he sat up and only to fall on his back. I lay on top of him, our lips refusing to disconnect.

Finally, though, he stopped.

"We've got nothing but time, love," He smiled, breathless.

"That's not enough," I exhaled, resting my head on his chest.

He smirked, "Forever's not enough for you?"

I didn't respond, my fingers twiddling with the hem of his shirt. We stayed quiet for a long time, each of those moments perfectly satisfactory without needless words. The only background noise was the television, which Mason made no move to turn down or turn off. Finally, he took a deep breath.

"You know what I noticed," He mused. When I looked up at him, he continued, "If I never broke up with you senior year, I could've skipped that horrible life I had before … I never would've had to deal with Madison, I never would've had a son ripped away from me, I never would've had to lose my job. If only I could've been with you all that time … save myself the trip, you know?"

I didn't respond at first, but then I said, "Well, if we hadn't broken up, I never would've moved in with Lilli and Karolina, meaning I wouldn't be nearly as close with either of them. I never would've moved to Forks, and I never would've met Coop or the Masons. I would probably still be in Maryland, and I probably would not be with you."

His eyebrow rose. "You wouldn't be with me?"

"Think about it, Mason," I exhaled. "It's been ten years since we broke up in high school. I doubt either of us would've been able to last that long."

"Well, we've got approximately seventy years ahead of us," He grinned. "Will we be able to last, do you think?"

"This is different than if we'd never broken up …." I stopped.

"And how is it different?" He wondered.

It was then that I figured it out. "That's just it. Fate split us up for a reason. In high school, we weren't ready for forever. But those ten years … prepped us for each other, you know?"

He paused to consider it. "So fate really does have a method to its madness."

"I guess," I shrugged.

"Hmm," he smiled. "Well, now that forever's ahead of us, I'm happy to say that I don't think I could ever find someone better to spend it with."

"How cheesy," I sighed.

He laughed.

We sat there for another moment in silence; the rain pounding on the roof took advantage of the quiet and went deafening for a moment, but then it softened a bit as Mason looked out the window.

"Can I be honest with you?" He asked.

"Of course," I nodded.

"I can't ever imagine losing you," He told me, his voice practically inaudible. "First and foremost because I love you, but there's also another reason."

He paused, and I let him take his time.

"Drinking was never a really big problem for me, but the last time I smoked was the day I came back, and I haven't since …. That is a huge accomplishment for me. You have no idea how many times I promised Madison I would quit and I didn't."

I looked up at his eyes.

They were staring at something far away. "You may not realize it and maybe I don't fully appreciate it like I should … but you're ultimately saving my life."

I exhaled, "I didn't know I was …"

"I know," He shrugged. "But I thought I'd tell you, because … well, I don't know. But I feel like there's nothing I can't say to you – I might as well tell you what's on my mind, right?"

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

"Wow," He breathed deeply, caressing my face gently. "It's strange."

"What's strange?" I wondered.

"That feeling," He explained to me. "That you have someone that you can tell anything to. It's nice, to not have to hide anything."

"What is there to hide?" I smiled.

"A lot of things, I guess," He said. "I mean, don't you have something that you feel you have to keep all to yourself? It burns to keep something from someone that you care about, though; I guess that's why it's so gratifying to be able to finally let it all out, you know?"

I went blank. "I know what you mean."

My mind retreated to a secret that I had almost forgotten: the kiss. _It__burns__to__keep__something__from__someone__that__you__care__about_ – he couldn't have gotten it more right. And it did burn, and I wanted more than anything for that burn to go away. It was like a scar that I couldn't conceal or let go of.

"Now can I be honest?" I sighed.

"Hmm?" His fingertip continued to stroke my temple.

"When you were gone," I began, but then I stopped to find the right words to say. "You know that I spent a lot of time with Nathaniel."

He looked down at me, "Yes."

I considered going through a whole explanation, to try to smooth out any rough edges or clear up any immediate conclusions he might come up with, but the burning was too dominant. I had the urge to get rid of the ache as soon as possible.

So I said it, "I kissed Nathaniel."

Mason's face was vacant as he said, "When?"

"The day you came back," I answered clearly, deciding to be totally honest. When he didn't say anything for a long time, I stammered, "B-but it was completely unintentional. He forced himself on me."

"Of course, he did," Mason stood swiftly.

He was in the kitchen before I even had time to think. I stumbled after him, "I'm sorry. That's why he's been mad at me all this time, because I didn't tell him you were coming back and he thought that meant that you broke up with me …"

"Why?" He asked randomly.

"Well, I probably would've assumed the same thing if I was in that situation," I watched him as he leaned against the counter and stared out the window above the sink. I remained inertly in the doorway. "But I'm not sure if …"

He interrupted again, "Not that."

I was confused.

"Why didn't you tell me months ago?" He turned to face me, his face livid. "You … you lied to me."

"I lied?" I exhaled.

He let out a low laugh. "Yes, you did. I asked you if anything had happened. It was one of the first things I said to you when I got back … and you told me nothing had gone on between you and Nathaniel …." His voice disappeared.

I had nothing to say.

"You lied to me," He repeated.

"I'm sorry …"

"Stop apologizing," He snapped, looking away from me and out at the rain.

"But I should," I shook my head. "I should have told you before, I know, but I was scared of what you would say … I guess I'm just thickheaded and hopeless. You've known that all along …"

He interrupted again, "Stop saying that!" His tone reminded me of Nathaniel's when he yelled at me – it was virulent.

I whimpered, "What?"

"You've always been the same!" He tried to control his temper, but it was difficult for him. "You haven't changed since high school _at_ _all_. You put up a wall and you refused to take it down … it's a shield for you, a safeguard. You make people believe that you're insecure and helpless … but I know better."

I was silent.

"I remember in 3rd grade, you weren't afraid to tell off the bully," He shook his head. "In 5th grade you were headstrong. You wouldn't let people overlook your ideas. But ever since freshman year, you got the idea that you were alone in this world and that no one wanted to help you … so you came up with a charade. You made yourself clumsy and ignorant and shy and weak; I'm still not sure if it was for attention or if you actually wanted to be that way.

"But then that charade became your life," He exhaled. "You let it take over you to the extent where it wasn't make-believe anymore."

My voice stumbled to life. "There is no charade."

"No charade, huh?" He stepped forward, fire in those previously composed azure eyes. "Then what happened to you?"

"I-I …." I tried to explain but I couldn't.

"I didn't think you'd have an answer," He sighed, stepping around me and into the foyer.

I followed him.

"You know, I lied too," He confessed, still fuming. "I didn't break up with you because of the long distance …. I broke up with you because I thought you'd grow up by then, but you still hadn't … you only got worse. You were losing yourself to the fake self you'd created."

He stormed up the steps, and I tried to follow.

"Don't," He pushed me back down to the first floor.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"If you're lucky," He shook his head. "I'm not going to pack."

And then he went up the stairs and left me alone.

The guilt overtook me, hitting me in the face with a certain fervor that I had never felt before. I glanced up the steps, the tears beginning to fall, and then my eyes were out the front door, staring out onto the street. Without thinking, I pushed open the door and ran down the front steps, practically tripping halfway down. Instead of retreating to my car, I ran into the woods, into the trees. Into the dark.

Once I reached the comfortable claustrophobia of the woods, I exhaled and began to walk, deeper and deeper. Once the house disappeared, a pounding sensation banged against the inside of my forehead and I couldn't think clearly.

I passed tree after tree, the looming branches towering above me. The rain could still be heard overhead but it couldn't reach me through all the overgrowth. I watched my footing, the wet moss under my feet tugging at the soles of my shoes, raring for me to falter. And even after all my incessant concentration, the moss won.

I slipped and fell forward into a gigantic tree, my head banging against the bark. A loud thud echoed throughout the forest and my minor headache turned major. I could hear the fluttering of crows' wings as they flew from their nests in the treetops, startled by the jarring noise. My breathing grew heavier.

"Do you hear that sound?" A voice whispered.

It was not a sound that I could recognize on the spot, a voice that I had never heard before but a voice that seemed horribly familiar. It was mocking, torturous almost – and it echoed again and again in my brain like a heretic.

"It's nothing … and you are nothing."

My heart pounded vindictively as I tried to continue on. And, again, the sky seemed to slip from above me to below me. All of a sudden, I slammed down into the earth, and I could feel a rock jam into my hip. I cringed, but had no energy to scream in pain. I stood again, wanting to get away.

"Why are you running from your problems?" I decided the voice was that of the monster inside me, the teasing beast that had controlled the nightmarish dreams I'd tried so hard to push away. "Do you think you can stay in here for awhile, then go back home and everything will be better?"

My hand instinctively retreated to my hip, and when I brought my fingertips away again, blood soaked my hand. I wrapped my jacket tighter around me, but it was too thin to protect me from the cold. The looming trees spun slowly, their branches getting higher and higher it seemed.

"Think about what you've done, the people you've hurt," The demon mocked me, its voice sharp. It seemed to melt through my thoughts like venom. "You don't deserve what you're getting, but you'll get what you deserve."

My vision grew hazy.

Time seemed to slow to halt, my head unable to tolerate much more of this. I finally got to a small clearing, moss and leaves surrounding the area. _Good_, I thought. If I tripped again, at least the earth could cushion my fall. The rain above me fell harder as my headache pounded just as brutally.

I leaned against a tree to maintain my balance, the wet bark soaking my entire backside. I closed my eyes and wiped my face, incidentally marking my cheek with the remainder of wet blood that was on my fingertips. And just before the ground beneath me began to spin, I heard the cracking of leaves about thirty feet in front of me. My eyes flashed open, part of me hoping that Mason had followed me. But if he had, wouldn't he have tried to help me up when I fell? … Or was he that furious with me that was able to just ignore it?

"It's not Mason," The voice laughed.

I looked forward, my pulse hastening as a saw a tall, hairy creature standing directly in front of me. The demon was right; it was definitely not Mason. I wasn't nearly as lucky.

And all sound vanished.

All sound except for my beating heart.

The wolf stared back at me with vivid eyes, its sharp teeth bared. The fear began to well up inside me, and I wished my heartbeat wasn't so loud that it drowned out my thoughts. Then again, I should savor the sound of my heartbeat while I still could. The beast took a step closer, snarling quietly.

Its eyes fell from my face to my hand.

I followed its gaze and stared at my fingers, the fingers soaked in blood. My eyes returned to the animal, realizing now that I had made myself a human target. It had been attracted by the smell of hardening blood and it wouldn't be much longer before it would lose control, I knew.

I whimpered.

Again, I heard cracking leaves, and I looked over into the blackness of the trees that lined the perimeter of the clearing. There stood a second wolf, twice as big as the one that had haunted my dreams these last few months, the one that stood before me now. Its fur was dirty gray with silver tips. It growled – a deep, menacing sound – and it moved closer, its paws slamming against the cold earth as it approached its mate.

It stayed about ten feet behind the black wolf.

"Ooh, another wolf has come to play," The monster inside me playfully said, its tone piquing me. "Enjoy your last breaths – because you may be the only one who will miss them."

"Mason will miss me," I fought back weakly.

The wolves eyed me suspiciously, but thought little of it. They stood guarded; their butterscotch eyes watched me, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. The voice in my head didn't respond, leaving me alone to die. A nefarious howl in the distance pierced the air, spiking panic inside me. That only meant that the pack was close by.

Unfortunately, I was right.

Two more wolves appeared about twenty feet off, standing on mounds of earth that towered above me. They were as large if not larger than the previous two; one had sandy fur and the other was muddy brown. I knew they were working from a tactical standpoint, blocking all exits up close and far off.

I wanted to scream but didn't.

The only exit left was from behind, and I knew it wouldn't be long before a fifth wolf would cut me off from that angle as well. Although, I didn't know why they were being so cautious – I had no desire to run.

Luckily, I was wrong.

The silver tipped wolf left the black beast's side and began to circle like a vulture trapping its prey. The only protection I had was the tree that I was pressed against, and I doubted it would do me much good. The black one stepped forward again, this time about three paces.

Its eyes searched mine.

Much to my shock, I longed for that mocking voice to come back. I needed to hear a voice besides my own – talking to myself now would not be the best idea. The most that could do was confuse the wolves, but at the same time it would render me legally insane. I pressed my back against the tree, resorting to a plant to be my only form of company.

Abruptly, the black wolf snapped its teeth at me, to frighten me, I surmised. And it worked. I tried to jump back, forgetting that there was an immovable, ten-story tree behind me. My head smashed against the trunk, my headache worsening. My hand flew to my scalp to try to impede the pain, and I felt blood oozing out the back of my head. The gash was deep, I could tell.

The cold air grew even more frigid all at once.

I slid down the trunk of the tree to sit down on the moist earth, my head throbbing. Noticing my state of vulnerability, the wolf jumped forward again, this time with its teeth pointed straight for me. Instinctively, I lifted my hands in front of my face. Like a dagger, I could feel the wolf graze the skin off my forearm.

I shrieked – the pain was too much.

I clenched my eyes shut, the throbbing meshing with my heartbeat. When I opened my eyes again, I looked up first and noticed the black wolf had walked about fifteen feet away. It kept its distance as it stalked me, but it continued to watch me with impious ocher eyes.

Then my eyes fell down to my arm, trying to estimate the damage. My entire forearm was drenched in crimson blood. A deep slash trailed up my arm to about a centimeter from my elbow where the wolf's teeth had dug in. I sniveled, the sight of blood making me nauseous.

"Scarlett!" A voice called, but it was too far away to identify.

A low growl emitted from the animal's pursed mouth.

I glared up at it, trying to muster as much courage as I could. Would the Scarlett from my dream resurrect? I wanted more than anything to try to stand up and yell at the beast like I had in that horrific nightmare. Nonetheless, there was something about now that seemed very different from my slumber – this was too real. Even the bravest person on earth would probably think twice before doing something gutsy in this situation.

No mistakes, or else my death would be the consequence.

Death. It claimed too much – it stole Mason's son, it stole the young couple that had been hiking in the woods, it stole Gemma, and now … it would steal me. A criminal, death was – an ardent devil that lived to kill, to take lives of those weaker than it … and _everything_ was weaker than it. Trees forty-stories high would die, the strongest of all beings would eventually be murdered by death as well – as would every single human that roamed upon this earth. No one could last forever.

And neither could I.

This was the end, and I had to say I saw it coming. If the strongest couldn't last, then I most certainly would be the first to go.

The wolf stepped back, ready to claim my life. Its eyes grew darker in those few seconds, the angel of death stepping into the soul of the giant beast. My breathing grew coarse and my fingers locked up. Blood continued to gush from my arm and from my scalp, but I tried my best to ignore it.

Instead, I called back the past that I had pushed away earlier. I heard Coop's laugh, I saw Krista's uplifting and dearly missed smile, I could hear Lilli's sarcastic tone, and I smelt Nathaniel's recognizable scent of peppermint and motor oil. And most importantly, I could feel Mason's emollient touch, the touch that made all of my qualms evaporate.

The wolf crouched, analyzing my every expression. It stepped back a few more feet, almost back to where the sandy and the brown wolves were …

And then it started to run.

The next few moments seemed to go by slower than actuality. I inhaled every aspect of my setting, recording my final moments. The green leaves were inside out, blowing violently in the whipping wind. Rainwater began to find its way through the cracks in the canopy and down to the ground. The wolf was midair after about twelve steps forward, lunging for me. Its claws were extended, aimed directly for my face and I cringed away, ready for the pain.

My eyes were clamped shut.

Seconds before the wolf was to reach me, a sharp _bang_ sounded and the thud pulverized the quiet air onto the ground in front of me. I opened my eyes, and the wolf was on the ground, its fur stained with blood. Despite the fatal wound, its paw was still reaching out for me and I stumbled back, trying to kick its foot away with my sneaker. The noise echoed throughout the woods again – I now recognized it to be gunfire – and the beast was dead.

At the noise, the rest of the wolf pack had fled.

My eyes retreated to the source of the noise – and immediately, the sight of his face sent my heartbeat fluttering back to its normal pace but my breathing even more uneven than before.

"Are you alright?" Nathaniel asked.

I exhaled, unable to find coherent words. He didn't approach me, but he eyed my arm carefully.

"H-help me," I mumbled.

His reaction was instinctive; he stepped forward, but then he stopped, thinking. "I won't be able to help you. I won't know what to do."

I watched him through sweaty brows, the blood dripping from the back of my head starting to stain my hair. He looked down at the ground, his eyebrows furrowing, at a loss of things to do or words to say.

"H-how'd you find me?" I wondered.

"They assigned officers to patrol the woods so things like this wouldn't happen," He said tersely. "Why am I not surprised I found you the victim of all this?"

I said nothing.

"Mason let you out here?" He asked.

"H-he doesn't know I'm out here," I replied.

Nathaniel pocketed his gun. "He doesn't take care of you?"

I phrased my words carefully. "Tonight, I didn't want him to."

The throbbing grew worse and the pain inexorably shot through me like rockets. I gripped my arm, gasping for air as if I was being suffocated. Whether he knew what to do or not, Nathaniel couldn't tolerate just looking on; he came over and tucked his muscular arms underneath me.

"Scarlett!" The same voice from before called. Now I recognized it.

"Don't lift me," I instructed strongly.

"Why not?" He wondered, pulling away from me.

"I hear him," I shook my head. "H-he's coming for me."

Nathaniel stood. "And I won't suffice?" His voice was gruff.

"P-please," I begged, my voice fraught. I breathed deeply in between every word, trying to concentrate less on the pain and more on Nathaniel's eyes. "Don't argue with me now. It won't be fair."

"Fair?" Nathaniel's voice softened.

"Y-yes, because I won't be able to," I exhaled. "I-if you want to argue, then at least wait until I have the stamina to fight back."

His face fell.

"Scarlett!" Mason emerged into the clearing then, his face like a haven.

He, unlike Nathaniel, was at my side in an instant. He noticed my arm immediately and began to examine the damage. Reaching up, he pushed my hair behind my ear, and when I recoiled, he gently craned my neck back and checked the back of my head.

Startling me, he laughed.

"You're laughing," I muttered.

"I just can't seem to leave you alone, can I?" He smiled. "C'mon, let's get you back to the house, love."

"Ahem," Nathaniel called his attention.

Mason looked up at him briefly, looking at him as if he'd just noticed he was there. "What do you want?"

"It's not like either of you care," Nathaniel sighed.

"That's right," Mason said once I was upright. "So why don't you just run on home, Redborn."

The trees swayed as Mason helped me up off the ground, ignoring Nathaniel completely. I wanted to talk to Nathaniel, but I couldn't find the energy to.

"No, you're going to listen to me," Nathaniel snapped, his tone threatening. "Whether you want to hear it or not."

Mason disregarded him and tried to help me over to the edge of the clearing.

"L-let him talk," I managed to say.

Reluctantly, Mason turned, and stared at him.

"What made you assume that she's yours?" Nathaniel asked him, adamant. "Has she officially chosen you yet?"

Mason rolled his eyes. "Take a look at that ring on her finger and you tell me what you think she's decided."

"No," Nathaniel shook his head. "I want to hear the words come out of her mouth. I want to hear her tell me to my face that she doesn't want me … and then I'll be out of your hair. I'll go away if she wills it."

I swallowed, but the lump in my throat wouldn't go away.

"Choose, Scarlett," Nathaniel prompted.

I resisted, "No … n-no, it's not time yet …"

Mason interrupted, leaning me against the tree that had been my ballast during the wolf's ambush. "Yes, it is, Scarlett. You have to choose now."

My eyes jumped between the two of them, the tears beginning to fall. You would think that I'd have been bawling by now, but before the tears had been afraid to come. Now they couldn't be held back.

I sniveled, "No."

Each breath out of my mouth seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. For the first time, the woods were closing in on me – it was no longer my hiding place. Even in the enclosed hideaway of the trees, I wasn't safe from reality. In spite of myself, I could feel that it was now. Today was judgment day, and I had known from the beginning that this wasn't a day that I would welcome.

"This isn't fair," Nathaniel glanced over at Mason. "She's engaged to you. Of course you'll be the one she chooses."

"R-right," I sniffed. "So don't make me choose."

"He's right," Mason nodded, locking his eyes on the ground. After about a minute of nothing but rainfall, those blue eyes met mine. "Scarlett, I'm willing to annul the engagement …"

I stopped him, "W-what?"

"It's the only way that this'll be fair," Mason exhaled. "Now you can choose with nothing standing in your way."

"But we've already planned everything …" I sobbed.

"Forget planning," Mason shook his head. "… Pick."

I watched both of them, carefully.

My eyes fell on Nathaniel first, his chocolate eyes somberly watching me. It broke my heart to know that I'd never see that smile again in this lifetime. If I had known the last time I'd seen such a smile or heard such a laugh would be the last time I would ever witness it, I would have spent every second I'd wasted with him trying to make him laugh instead.

As if he knew what I wanted, his lips curved into a gentle grin, making my pulse pound like thunderbolts inside my head. In that one smile, I recalled those three weeks with the utmost clarity, and I wanted nothing more to go back to them – even though those days were utterly Mason-less.

Then I looked over at Mason, noting that his eyes were not on my face, but on the ground. I could see in those blue eyes that he had been anxiously running though the forest, calling my name but never getting a reply in return. How could I put him through the torture of three wasted months with me and then send him home with no reward?

He had coincidentally stumbled upon our eighth grade yearbook when I was at my loneliest. He had ironically arrived at my doorstep when I needed someone most. And he had unintentionally stolen my heart when I needed nothing more than for my heart to be stolen. Without him, I couldn't breathe. And without him, I was nothing.

"What if I don't want to choose?" I whispered.

Mason's eyes shot up to me then. Automatically, Nathaniel looked away.

"I love you," I didn't look at either of them; instead I stared down at my feet. They each glanced at the other, wondering to whom I was referring. I clarified, "Both of you, really I do … but I can't stand a life where I will live forever with one and know that I will live forever without the other."

I let my arm fall out of my grasp and I walked over to Nathaniel. He was wearing the same plaid button-down shirt that he had worn the day we had that horrible argument that night in the car. The time where he was inches away from ramming the hood of his car into a gargantuan moose.

"All the battles we have against each other make us stronger," I quoted him as I rubbed my index finger and thumb between the hem of his plaid shirt. I smiled slightly. "You said that, remember?"

"Is this a battle?" He wondered, brushing his thumb against my temple.

I glanced over at Mason who was staring down at the ground.

I looked back at Nathaniel. "It doesn't have to be," I answered.

He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. "I don't want it to be."

"I'm sorry," I looked up at him, his eyes burning directly into mine. "I can't shut you out, but at the same time I can't let you in."

"Scarlett, I …" He began.

I stepped out of his grasp. "No."

Mason's eyes were off the ground in an instant and on me.

I walked over to Mason's side and he held me close. I could still hear Nathaniel's steady breaths behind me, so I pressed myself against Mason so all I could hear was his heartbeat.

"You don't have to annul anything," I exhaled.

He pulled my face up to his, smiling, "I'm glad."

I backed away from Mason for a moment, watching Nathaniel's heartbroken expression. Regret dried out my mouth and that knot in my throat had returned. Mason, noticing my lament, wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me closer to the tree line.

"Wait!" Nathaniel called, his tone heated again.

We turned back to face him, but I stared at the forest floor to evade his eyes.

"I saved your life," He protested.

My eyes couldn't keep away from his for too long, I noticed. "I'm sorry."

And with that, Nathaniel ran off into the woods.

Mason bent down then, placing his arm at the back of my knees. He picked me up, cradling me in his arms like a baby, and began to head back in the direction of the house. I buried my face in his chest, inhaling his scent but choking on my own sobs.

_Note __to __self_, I thought. _Breathing __is __hard__ … __so __don__'__t __breathe._

"I'm here," Mason whispered into my hair. "Don't worry."

"I'm sorry," I cried silently.

I could feel the up and down motion as Mason took careful steps. Glancing up at his face, I noticed he wasn't watching where he was going, as he hadn't when we were last in the woods together. His eyes were on me.

"You know what I just noticed?" I sniffled.

"What's that?" I could feel his breaths on the top of my head.

I masked my face in his shirt again. "That was our meadow."

Mason said nothing in response to that; he just took a deep breath. As he continued to walk, the sky got darker and my sobs grew quieter. I was sleepy, but I kept my eyes open for as long as I could. It wasn't until we reached the perimeter of my yard that I couldn't fight it back any longer. I fell asleep, our big white house being the last image I saw.


	25. Chapter 20

_**I swear to God. I made a point to upload it on Thursday. I thought I fulfilled that goal. I get on several days to realize my stupid internet connection died mid-post, so the upload did not complete... Pretend it's Thursday. **_

I stood idly in front of the bathroom mirror.

And I could hardly recognize the beauty that stared back at me – hair curled down to a little above my waist, framing my pale face like a mahogany picture frame; prominent hazel eyes amplified by eyeliner that Lilli had applied; face a porcelain white, faults magically erased and flushed cheeks lessened to subtle blush.

And the dress. Oh, the dress.

Too extravagant and ostentatious compared to something that I normally would've chosen, but Mason had gone down to Seattle with Lilli to pick it out and, to say the least, they had done an admirable job. And, sure enough, when I asked, Mason, a magnificent learner, informed me that the price tag had been thrown away the moment the cashier returned him his credit card. Go figure.

But, still, it was lovely. It was slimming around the waist, billowing down to the floor making me feel like a giant umbrella. The sleeves were a creamy white lace stitched in a flowing pattern down my forearm, past my elbows, over my palm and curled about my long fingers. And the train that waited in my bedroom was honestly terrifying for me to even think about – let alone imagine that I would have to _walk_ in a straight line with it in just a few hours time.

Altogether, I guess I could've been beautiful.

If not for the ugly black brace that hugged my arm tightly, a dreadful contrast to my white gown. And, not only that. Along the back of my head was yet another reminder of my tiring stupidity: a _foot_ of black thread patched together the back of my head. Mason continually reminded me that no one would be able to see the stitches, especially since my hair was so dark. But it bothered me nonetheless, only because _I_ knew it was there.

Just thinking about it made me reach back and pat the back of my head. Mason had originally intended to take me to the ER, but, noting how tired I was, he waited until morning to pull out his medical paraphernalia and sew me together. Normally, I would've been bawling. Pain was something I couldn't bear quietly a lot of the time. But for him, I didn't protest – I figured that after all that I'd done to him, struggling would just add to Mason's anxiety.

Ever since that night, I had apologized to him endlessly. Every other sentence was an apology. Yet, much to my dismay, he absolutely _refused_ to forgive me. He always shook his head, or rolled his eyes, or said 'You don't have to be sorry for anything.'

He was wrong, of course. To cause him pain was to cause me pain, and no matter how many times he said apologizing was unnecessary, I said it again. I refused to let him blow this off – I would keep apologizing until he forgave me. And even then, I doubted I would stop begging his forgiveness.

I could apologize to Mason all I wanted. But Nathaniel was another story entirely. I knew that he deserved an apology as much as Mason did – but it was as if he'd disappeared. I never meant to hurt him, but pain was a universal effect of mine, one that I could not help. I had considered going to Nathaniel more than once, but it was always my conscience that stopped me. It was only logical to think that he would never want to see me ever again – as much as it killed me.

But, today, I would not show it.

Today was my day. I refused to walk down that aisle and search for any pair of eyes other than those of the one I loved. I refused to search the pews for a face that half of my heart knew would not be there. I refused to depress myself by considering what Nathaniel could be doing right now – he wasn't worth my thoughts today.

"Scarlett," Lilli's voice called from the hallway. "How does it look?"

I left the bathroom and went to my bedroom. Lilli was sitting on my bed, not yet dressed in her bride's maid gown. Her eyes lit up as I entered.

She stood. "Wow, you look great!"

I looked down at the dress and then back up at her.

"I still can't believe it. You're getting married," She thought aloud, coming over and fiddling with the neckline. I could tell she was still getting used to the fact. "And to _Mason_. I want to say I saw this coming, but I didn't."

I shrugged. "I look like a supermodel."

She nodded, agreeing.

Then I added, "A devastated, pitiful supermodel."

"Stop it," She shook her head, walking back to the bed. "You look amazing."

I considered protesting, but decided against it. I turned my head and looked down my backside, and then shaking my head, I whispered, "I can't believe it either."

Lilli continued to apply some more makeup – when she reached for the blush, I laughed flatly, "Like I don't blush enough" – and she played with my hair a bit more as well. After about an hour, three-thirty was approaching and we would have to leave soon.

I was pulling on my heels when the door creaked open.

"Coop's here. We're gonna head over there," Mason was about to open the door all the way, but Lilli stepped in front of it.

"Nope, you're not allowed in," Lilli blocked the door.

Mason exhaled, "It's my bride. I should be able to see her."

"Don't you know the rules?" Lilli chided. "The groom is not allowed to see the bride until the event."

"That's a stupid rule," I heard Mason mutter, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Get out," Lilli reprimanded, slamming the door shut.

I heard his voice from outside the door. "Then I guess I'll just see you there."

Like a lovesick puppy, I listened carefully, counting Mason's footsteps as he made his way down the steps. I turned to Lilli then, pouting, "I would have liked to see him."

"Oh, get over it," She waved her hand. "You'll see him in an hour or so. You will probably be able to live until then."

"Maybe," I muttered.

After a little while longer, we left the house, piling into Anthony's car and heading to the other side of town. All the while, I kept my eyes glued to Lilli and Anthony's intertwined hands – a pang of remorse hit me, for some unknown reason, but it faded as we pulled up to the Cullen house.

Several cars were already parked out front, lining the road since there was no parking lot. Lilli helped me out of the car, picking up my white tail so that it wouldn't brush the ground. We walked inside the bed-and-breakfast, several familiar faces greeting us on the way in. My parents were there, so were a multitude of my old friends. They bombarded us immediately.

"Mason Ryder?" Karolina came up to me and wrapped me in a hug. San Diego had made her incredibly tan. "Are you serious? I laughed my head off when I got the invitation in the mail."

"Oh, so did I," My other grade school friend, Katherine Parker, approached. I hadn't seen her since high school. "And when I saw you were having it at the 'Cullen' house? God, Mason must be a pushover."

"Glad you guys could make it," I greeted them in return, my voice sarcastic.

Lilli went on to say something, and I would've been paying attention, but something large and white caught my eye outside the window.

I was at the window in a flash, staring out the paned glass agape, groaning in disgust. In contrast to the green backdrop that the Hoh Forest presented, everything was white. The pews were off-white with black cushions, the carpet distinguishing the center aisle was white, the podium was white, and a large pergola lined with white roses hovered above where I would be saying 'I do' in just a matter of hours.

It was officially now that I regretted letting him go the extra mile.

Lilli pulled me away from the window then, dragging me towards the back door of the bed-and-breakfast. The fact that she didn't react to the extravagant setup made me assume that she had been involved in the madness.

We waited in the mudroom for a long time, for some reason I didn't know. But the extra time to think was welcomed. My thoughts were simple: _today__'__s__the__day_. I would never have to be alone again – Mason would be by my side for the rest of my petty existence … and, if I was with him, maybe my existence wouldn't be quite so petty anymore.

Finally, the owner of the inn came into the mudroom, and smiled, "The groom is here."

Those words were permanently etched into my brain forever, despite their intended insignificance. I took their meaning in a much broader sense, pretending that she had something like 'The groom is here _to __save __you __from __yourself_' or rather 'The groom is here _to __fix __everything_' or maybe 'The groom is here _and __will __never __leave_.'

* * *

><p>A flimsy wind. A palpable green. And plenty of white.<p>

These are the things I feel and see as I stand at the top of the aisle, staring down at the expectant faces as if they were invisible. I could see no one – I was alone in the backyard of the Cullen house. With the marvelous exception of my groom standing at the far end of the white carpet, that is.

His blue eyes seemed to stand out against the pallid gray sky behind him. He was dressed elegantly, as I knew he would be. He wore a sleek black suit with a slim black tie. The one that was always modern was now classic – and too spectacular to be mine. I approached him carefully, training to maintain a steady pace that wouldn't look to conspicuous; if I'd had my way, I would've ran down the aisle to him.

As I neared the halfway mark, some of the faces in the pews began to flicker back – and I could see the faces of the Quileute's. In spite of my vow to not look for him, I couldn't help it. My eyes fell on each of their faces, landing on some of his closest friends that had become my own.

But never on him.

My eyes landed on Robyn, and she shook her head, her smile curving into a frown. He was not here, he had not come – and I couldn't stand the anger that was boiling up inside of me. But I pushed the sensation aside. To compose myself, I brought my eyes back to my groom, and his smile made everything better.

And, looking into those eyes, I knew. He was all I'd ever need.

I finally reached the end of the carpet, only inches from him now. I stepped closer, still forgetting the rest of the congregation. I stood up on my toes, wanting to kiss him. He discreetly extended his hand out, pushing me by the waist at least three inches away.

"Patience," he muttered, suppressing a laugh.

I watched him as the wedding began, not processing a single word the pastor said. He glimpsed at me often, but had to look away consistently to hide his smile. I didn't have the courage to look away then. I was so hypnotized, the priest startled me when he cleared his throat; it took me a couple moments to realize that I had missed my cue to repeat after him.

Mason recited his vows with the utmost care, each word seeming to be in perfect rhythm with my heartbeat. These words would last the rest of my life, I knew. And I can't even begin to put into words how much I hoped that it would turn out to be the longest lifetime, on record – the more time I was blessed with spending with him, the better.

Finally, he turned to face me, slipping a new, even bigger ring to replace the one that had been there before. After I shakily did the same, the pastor continued on. I jumpily awaited the lines that I knew were about to come. Mason reached out and grasped my hand, hiding our intertwined fingers behind my bulbous dress. The action had been intended to calm me down, I knew. But it only made it worse.

At last. "You may now kiss the bride."

I stood up on the tips of toes again, our lips connecting – this was the first kiss of the rest of our lives, and I could hardly contain the emotions that were spurting through my veins. This was the day that I would remember as our day.

Not anyone else's.

This was _our _day.

* * *

><p>The reception was expensive, which I should have expected.<p>

Mason had rented a massive tent that was hidden on the other side of the Cullen house's lot, behind a bend of trees. I assumed he hid the tent there on purpose, because if he had put it in plain view of the entrance, they might've had to drag me in kicking and screaming.

A large faux wood dancefloor clicked together like puzzle pieces to form level ground on the grassy earth floor. Few people were dancing; most were standing around and catching up with people they hadn't seen in awhile. Mason stayed by my side the entire time, which I appreciated – I refused to be left alone in this sea of faces, most of which I would have to have an aneurism just to remember their names.

"Thanks for coming," Mason shook hands with an elderly gray-haired man whom I didn't know. He was just a part in the never-ending line that had snaked around under the tent just to say hello to the bride and groom.

I smiled politely, pretending I knew him.

When he was out of earshot, Mason whispered, "Dr. Harold Fairland. I used to work for him a while back. He's maddening."

Another elderly couple moved forward, congratulating us.

Once they walked away, Mason leaned down and said, "Mr. and Mrs. Bartley. I used to mow their lawn."

The second to last person in line approached, "Congratulations!"

Mason and I both smiled enthusiastically, trying to copy the person who approached us by feigning overexcitement.

When the person left, Mason murmured, "I don't even know who that is."

I rolled my eyes, "I think that if there is someone here you don't know, you invited too many people."

"Oh, just humor me a little while longer," He chuckled, pulling me closer to him by the waist. "In a couple more hours we'll be able to go home and …" He wasn't able to continue.

"Scarlett!" An eager voice interrupted him.

Robyn dashed up to me, Adam lumbering behind her with his hands in his pockets and amusement on his face. She wrapped me in a tight hug, jumping up and down excitedly.

"Oh, the wedding was just gorgeous," She bubbled after she pulled away. "And you look beautiful!"

I smiled widely as Adam went up to Mason and they shook hands.

They began to talk quietly, and I picked out random words: "ridiculous", "so many zeros", "it's not even the size I ordered", and "you're going to bankrupt with a wife like that." It took me a couple seconds to realize they were talking about the gigantic tent. I shook my head – Mason didn't have to go overboard, but I knew he just couldn't help it; it was a disease to him.

I turned back to Robyn, my smile fading slightly.

She knew the question before I asked it, "He's not coming. He told me he had a late night at the station."

I laughed flatly, "Liar. He just didn't want to come."

"And I know that," She nodded, exhaling and lowering her voice. "But I should tell you something. He's been locked inside his house ever since that day he found you in the woods. Blinds down, windows locked, everything. Adam and Dylan went to check on him twice and he didn't even let them in. Today was the first day he actually left his house."

Her words almost paralyzed me. I hated knowing that I was the one who broke his heart. But before I could blame myself to the extreme, she occupied my brain with more words.

"But all the other guys were more than eager to come," She giggled, gesturing towards the snack table at the far end of the tent. "I think I haven't seen them in suits for at least five years."

I watched as they keenly consumed the party platters. Zach began to make a game of it and jokingly tossed some deviled eggs in Shane's face.

"I swear they're like a bunch of twelve-year-olds disguised as adults," She mocked. "You'd think I'd be embarrassed to be with such a motley crew."

I laughed, watching as Tommy nearly clipped the back of a guest's head. Fortunately, I had been one of the few people that had noticed. Looking back at Robyn, I smiled, "Why are you slumming it, then?"

She shrugged, "They're family."

I nodded.

And then she added with a sigh, "And you know that saying. You can pick your friends but you can't pick your family. Looks like I'm stuck with them."

After informal goodbyes, Adam and Robyn slipped away towards the other Quileutes. I watched them longingly, remembering all those three weeks in almost perfect clarity. And at that moment, I had the urge to back to those weeks …

"Well, you never told me what you thought of my decorating skills," Mason pulled my attention to him as he tightened his grasp around me. "In my opinion, I was spot on, don't you think?"

My lips tautened into a pursed line. "How much was it?"

His eyes fell. It was painstakingly apparent that he hadn't wanted that question to come up. He looked away, mumbling a number that I could understand.

"How much was it?" I repeated, my lips curving into a smile.

His eyes returned to me and then shot away. He loosened his grip, "Mom!"

I turned to see his mother approaching us.

He was lucky. But I was determined to get an answer out of him later.

"Oh, that was just beautiful," She hugged me first, her blonde curls falling in front of my face. And then she moved on to her son, continuing after she pulled away, "I always had a feeling that you would come back, Scarlett. You already won my approval ten years ago."

I looked up at Mason. He was beaming.

"Thank you," I smiled, my eyes remaining on him. "I think we all knew he would come crawling back to me."

He rolled his eyes, "Crawling? If I recall, I walked back to you and you were the one begging on your hands and knees."

I elbowed him in the stomach.

"Well, you _both_ have to come over to Maryland to visit," She offered. "We would love to have you. Besides, I assumed if you're a couple, you go places together. Right, Mason?" She tapped her son on the shoulder.

He looked down at his mother embarrassedly. "I think Dad is calling you."

She bought it. "He's probably cleaning that icing off his suit. Did you see that young boy throw a crème puff at him?"

I turned away, trying to hide my laugh.

"Bye, Mom," I could hear Mason trying to suppress a laugh too.

When she walked away, I looked up at Mason, raising an eyebrow, "What was she talking about? She sounded mad."

"She's not very happy with me," He replied. "She's curious as to why I didn't bring you with me to Philadelphia. She thinks I should have brought you with me no matter how grim the occasion was."

"Well, that sure would've saved us some heartbreak," I sighed, gripping his hand tighter. "Why didn't you think of that sooner?"

"Maybe leaving you behind was a little thoughtless," He agreed. "Besides, if I had taken you with me, a certain relationship with a certain Quileute could have been skipped."

I was about to speak, but – lucky for Mason – someone interrupted us again.

"Look who it is!" A voice exclaimed boisterously. "Congratulations to the happy couple!"

It was Mason's youngest brother, Cole. The two looked incredibly similar – same features, same angles. If there was any strong difference between them, it might've been that Cole's hair was much blonder. Personality wise, though, the two couldn't be more in contrast. Cole was loud and fun-loving while Mason was much softer. However, there wasn't much more I could say; I hadn't seen Cole since I had babysat him in junior year.

He draped his arm over my shoulder, "Really, Mason? Hooking up with my babysitter? I obviously expected better than that from you."

I rolled my eyes, "Good to see you, too."

"I'm just playing with you," He chuckled wrapping me in a short hug. "God, it seems like forever since I saw you last. I think I was eleven when you guys graduated high school. Ever since then it was like you disappeared."

"I went to college in Utah," I told him.

"Utah?" His eyes widened. "Sounds to me like you were eager to get away from the east coast …?"

"Oh, you have no idea," I sighed, looking up at Mason.

He seemed a little uncomfortable, his lips in a soft flat line. His hands were partially extended towards me, trying to pull me out of Cole's grasp.

"So, lemme guess," Cole looked over at his brother, never removing his arm from around my shoulder. "You buttered her up with a bunch of gifts, hired some musicians, and proposed to her while she was awestruck. Am I right?"

My eyes widened as I looked up at Mason.

"Actually, I was the musician this time," He replied, a tint of annoyance in his voice. "I know Scarlett was a pianist while we were dating so I figured she must be a sucker for one."

My mouth fell agape as they continued talking like I wasn't even there.

"Hmm," Cole nodded. "It sounds like the music thing really works. If the right girl ever comes along, I should really give it a try."

"W-what?" I looked up at Mason.

His eyes met mine – he feigned adorable confusion.

"I'll leave you to do the explaining," Cole pointed to his brother and began to walk away. "Great party, by the way."

I put my hands on my hips, staring up at Mason.

He shrugged, "It's not as big a deal as you think. I hired some violinists when I proposed to Madison." He paused to laugh under his breath before continuing, "She couldn't have said yes faster."

I nodded, reaching out for his hand, "Oh, okay."

His smile faded and grew more solicitous. "Are you alright?"

"Well, I just think …" I paused to find the right words to say. "If you started that marriage the same way you started ours, doesn't that kind of foreshadow that we will end the same way?"

His eyebrows furrowed, but then his smile returned.

Pulling me closer, he kissed the top of my forehead. "Oh, love. You really expect me to be _that_predictable?"

"I guess I should give you a little more credit than that," I shrugged. "I expect you to be a little more creative if you ever decide to leave me, though, I'll give you that. It'll take more than late nights and cigarettes stuffed into the furniture."

He shook his head, his smile bringing me comfort. The smile faded a bit as he began to speak, though. "I feel incredibly guilty."

"Well, that's not what a newlywed bride wants to hear," I picked up the hand that wasn't locked around my waist and began to play with his fingers. "Regretting your vows already?"

"No, I have no doubts in my mind about that," He denied quickly.

"Then what are you guilty about?" I wondered curiously.

He exhaled, his smile fading slightly. His tone implied that it should be clear what the problem was, "You're in a brace and have stitches along the back of your head … all because of me."

"You didn't cause any of this," I refused to let him blame this whole ordeal on himself. "I was the one that aimlessly walked into the woods even though I knew the wolf would be there. If anything, I'm the idiot."

"But I let you walk right out the door," He objected. "And you wouldn't have left if it weren't for me."

"Fine," I sighed, pressing myself back into his grasp that had loosened with the newfound gravity of the conversation. "If you want it to be your fault, then I will gladly blame you. But I hope you realize that this won't go unpunished."

At first, he looked at me questioningly, but then he shrugged, "It's only fair."

"Hmm," I decided to play with him. "I should give you the worst possible sentence for putting my life in danger. So, it looks like the death penalty will be your only option."

He let go of me and clutched his hands together, playfully begging, "No, please, ma'am. I have a family, a gorgeous wife I must take care of." He laughed.

"Fine, I'll go easy on you," I paused dramatically. "You are to serve me for the rest of your life."

He extended his wrists towards me. "I'm your slave."

I smiled widely as he pulled me close, kissing me softly.

"Scarlett!" someone called me.

I turned to see Taylor walking towards me, a tall lanky boy with long dark hair walking behind her. She wrapped me in a hug as she came up and I didn't really want to let go. It had been so long since I had seen her last. Since I had ditched her and Ashley in New York for London.

"Forks? Really?" She sighed when she pulled away. "Well, if you had asked me a couple years ago if any of my friends would get married here, I probably would have said you."

The boy shook hands with Mason. Now that he was closer, I examined him more carefully. He wasn't a boy at all – he was probably my age, if not a year or two older. I was sure that I had seen him before, but I just couldn't put my finger on it.

"And, I must admit, it was a very _Twilight_-esque wedding," She reached up and ran her hand through Mason's gelled hair. I remembered then that they had been best friends in grade school – and although I had been best friends with her too, Mason and my paths had never intersected until high school. "Are you aware of the fact that she has made you too much like Edward Cullen for me to handle?"

Mason laughed, "Yes, I've noticed."

I looked up at him as he pulled me closer.

"But I'm surprisingly okay with it," He kissed my temple sweetly.

"At least you're not living here, right?" The familiar stranger spoke, his voice giving me no hints as to who he was. "Because if you by chance did end up living here, I just might have to kill you, Mason."

"Hate to break it to you," Mason laughed, glancing out at the road and nodding in the general direction of the house. "But I've been living up the road with her for almost four months now."

Four months? Where had the time gone?

"Alright," The stranger spoke again. "Looks like I have to kill you."

Taylor punched him in the gut. "Be nice, Steve. It's their wedding."

It was then that I placed him. Steve had hung out with Mason in grade school, but in high school they had drifted apart due to lack of similar classes. I had forgotten about him entirely, considering we had never exchanged more than a couple words with each other since I had met him in kindergarten. I didn't know Mason had invited him.

I interrupted Mason and Steve's newly developed conversation about the rain – and ignored the sudden urge in the bottom of my stomach to punch the both of them for criticizing the weather. What was it with guys and overcast skies? I may never know.

"Steve," I exhaled. "I didn't recognize you."

"That might explain why you were staring at me all confused when I walked up," He chuckled, his hair flapping against his forehead in the passing breeze.

"Sorry, I hope you don't mind that I invited him," Taylor took my hand. "You are lucky it's just him. I was tempted to invite our whole eighth grade class. This would have been the perfect occasion for a little class reunion."

Mason tensed, "If you recall, I had about three ex-girlfriends in that class."

She punched him in the arm. "Oh, grow up. How old are we all now? Twenty-eight? I think you would be able to live with saying hello to a girl you dated fifteen years ago at the time where you were still getting over cooties. Seriously."

He leaned out and wrapped Taylor in a short hug. "God, I miss your frequent anger with me. In a lot of the ways, you're worse than my mom."

"Oh, face it," She sighed. "I practically am your mom, considering I'm always far more mature than you are."

Mason and Steve both rolled their eyes.

She ignored them and wrapped her arm around me, "We have a lot to deal with, Scarlett. Guys are so difficult. At least I'm not married to Steve. The last thing I would want to be is stuck with _that_for the rest of my life."

I laughed as Steve began to walk away backwards. "Well, as much as I love being insulted by you, Taylor, I think I'm going to get a drink and find someone nicer to talk to," He teased, the sarcasm practically visible in his words.

We all smiled, watching as he nearly tripped as he turned to face forward.

"Alright, now I'm even sorrier," Taylor said jokingly, looking over at us. "I shouldn't have invited him and embarrassed you guys at your wedding."

"It's no problem," Mason shook his head. "I'm actually kind of glad you did. I haven't seen him in a long time, and we kind of left each other from high school on a sour note. I'm happy to see he's not mad at me still."

Her eyes widened, "That was a very heartfelt statement. Normally, I only hear a limit of about ten words per sentence from you."

"I'm married to a romance novelist," He brought me even closer to him. "What did you expect?"

"Oh, that's right," She nodded. "How are the stories coming, by the way?"

"Ugh, they're not," I sighed.

"And I'm not sure why," Mason exhaled. "I bought you a new computer and everything for that very purpose."

I grudgingly looked up at him and then back at Taylor. "I guess it's just a lack of things to write about. I mean, sometimes I wish the words would type themselves. It would make my job a whole lot easier."

"Well, if you ask me, there is plenty to write about," Mason shrugged. "I felt like the other night was a scene straight out of a movie."

I knew what he was referring to, but part of me didn't want to resurrect the burning memories that I had been trying so desperately to push away. But, somehow, my subconscious let the remembrance flicker – the image of the wolves' fury, my bloody arm, and two pairs of heartbroken eyes staring back at me expectantly.

And with those memories now flashing in front of my eyes, I knew which memories were to follow. I could see Nathaniel's smile, I could hear his booming laugh, but all the while I could not see his heartwarming face. It was those cherished three weeks with him that I thought of now. With these recollections came my unyielding resentment towards him. If he was truly my friend, he would have been here to support me, whether he was in love with me or not.

I lifted my head, staring out at the tree line.

Part of me wished he would emerge from the blackness, wanting to apologize for being late. But the other part of me knew that was too farfetched to believe. He was not coming, and I could not change that.

"Hey!" Lilli approached us then, snapping me out of my reverie. She glimpsed over at Mason carelessly, "Ryder."

"Samuel," He greeted in the same curt manner.

She hugged me excitedly, "You looked beautiful up there. Oh, and don't think I didn't notice when you forgot to say your vows."

"She was just too mesmerized by me," Mason teased.

"Actually, I was going to blame it on reluctance or sudden idiocy," Lilli sighed, glancing up at Mason bitterly for a moment.

His playful animosity against her vanished for a moment and he grew serious. "Why would she be reluctant?"

"She's just nervous," Taylor clasped my hand. "All those eyes on her."

Mason kept his eyes on me charily as Lilli continued, "You're probably right. Hey, I meant to ask you earlier but I would've had to wait in line. Which one of the Quileutes is Nathaniel? At first I thought it was the really tall, smiley one, but then I saw he was kissing some other Native American girl so I figured it wasn't him …" She went on, but I was too distracted to listen much further.

My eyes met Mason's, his face tense at the mere mention of Nathaniel's name.

I pulled my eyes away from my pained groom.

Would it be like this forever? Would Nathaniel Redborn become a cursed name in our house for the rest of eternity? I felt culpable – and unsuccessful. It had been my goal to bring my husband and my best friend together, but I couldn't have failed more than I did. I lost a friend and I aggrieved my husband … I aggrieved myself into upsetting the two people I had come to care about more than anything in these past few months.

That knowledge – the fact that I had hurt those that I loved – killed me inside.

"I'll be back," Mason let go of me, the surface of my skin where his hands had rightfully been stinging as he pulled away.

He was halfway across the dancefloor before I could protest.

"Was that my fault?" Lilli pulled my eyes back to her. "I should have kept my mouth shut. I know that Nathaniel is a tough subject for you guys."

Again, the mention of his name was another needle to my soul.

"No," I sighed. "Mason and I are still … recovering." I made it sound like Nathaniel was a disease. "But I thought he would be here, and he's not."

"Who's Nathaniel?" Taylor wondered, intrigued.

Lilli turned to her when she realized that I didn't have the voice to explain. "He is basically the Jacob Black in this Bella-Edward equation. Mason left Forks for a funeral and Scarlett made ties to this cop from La Push. Now there's tension."

"You make it sound like a page ripped out of the script for a romantic drama," I muttered quietly. "There's no tension. There's just … shattered pieces."

"Wait, Mason left you?" Taylor asked. When I nodded, she continued with an exasperated sigh, "God, have you ever made that boy watch _New__Moon_? Did he not see how disastrous it was when boy leaves girl? I swear guys could learn a thing or two from chick flicks."

"Well, I don't think he thought it would end up that way," Lilli shrugged. "I mean, it wasn't like he was leaving for good."

"Then again," I mumbled. "This is _me_ we are talking about."

"True," Taylor nodded, glancing over at the Quileutes. "If anyone knows how to break their own heart, it's Scarlett."

I kept my eyes on the La Push natives. They were still by the snack table, but now they were all sitting, talking animatedly with each other without a care in the world; I knew that they could feel the gravity, though. Just by their faces, I knew they were mad at Nathaniel too.

"Well, hey, if it's a Jacob scenario," Taylor smiled as I brought my eyes back to her. "Maybe it's best he didn't come."

"I'm trying to convince myself of that," I nervously smoothed out the creases in my dress, even though there were none. I was just looking for something to busy my hands, busy my thoughts. "Hey, I need to find Mason. To apologize."

They nodded understandingly and left me, heading towards a nearby table that Anthony, Krista and Andy were sitting at.

My eyes darted about the tent, but never found Mason. A bubbling fear formed in the back of my head: what if he'd left? I was about to let time do the mending, but then I decided that I left too many things to fate. I would have to fix this myself, and I would have to fix it now.

I picked up my dress and walked towards the Cullen house. As I left the glow of the lanterns under the tent, I trusted the soft light emanating from the windows of the house to guide me. There were only a matter of some twenty steps between the tent and the house, but I knew that I would still find some way to trip.

Walking around to the entrance may have been a bad idea. Several people were leaving and stopped me for a lengthy goodbye; I forced a smile, knowing that all this wasted time was enough for Mason to get in his car and drive off. After the lingering guests left me for their cars, my eyes searched the street which was lined with various vehicles.

And, exhaling, I noticed the Volvo on the far end.

Hoping that I would find him inside, I left the front porch and made my way through the front door, a couple more guests pulling me aside to congratulate me. I anxiously rushed through the predictable conversation, wondering why everyone insisted on talking to me. I supposed the gigantic white dress was a dead giveaway.

Unfortunately, Mason was not inside either. To avoid any more time-consuming conversations, I snuck through the mudroom and out the backdoor. I stood on the back doorstep for awhile, the beam of the porch light illuminating my dress so that I glowed like a ghost.

"Hiding from someone?" I heard a voice say teasingly.

I turned, noticing a shaded figure standing just outside the porch light's ring. The person stepped forward into the light, flipping shut a cellphone that had been open in their palm. It was Coop, inventively dressed to say the least. He wore a white button-up shirt – the sleeves were rolled up despite the crisp night air – with a long red tie and pinstriped pants. His Chuck Taylors stuck out the most, though; they matched mine, only his looked newer.

I smiled, his face soothing my qualms.

"What are you doing back here in the dark?" I wondered curiously, stepping down from the doorstep and meeting him at the rim of porch light's circle. "You look pretty shady just looming around in the blackness. You'd seem suspicious."

"Oh, yes, I'm certainly a danger," He joked, leaning back on his heels. "I love crashing parties that I'm invited to."

I giggled, looking down at my feet. I had wanted to wear my Chucks too, but Lilli had forced me into wearing high heels for the occasion.

"I'm offended, by the way," He sighed after we had been silent for awhile.

"About what?" I looked up at him.

"Well, first of all, you haven't said hi yet," He feigned sadness.

"Hi," I grinned.

"Well, hello," He smiled ear-to-ear and then continued on, "And I am also disappointed in your groom. I thought for sure I would be the best man, and then on the way over here Mason tells me that he had already asked his brother, Reid. I am thoroughly insulted."

At the mention of Mason's name, I exhaled. I still had to find him.

"Is something wrong?" Coop asked considerately.

"Oh, I just have to find Mason," I shook my head, fiddling with my fingers. "A certain topic came up in our conversation and he left."

"I'm pretty sure I know what that topic is …" Coop began, but when he saw my face fall, he added, "But I'm not going to mention it."

I nodded thankfully.

"Besides, you've been married for, like, what? Two hours?" He reached out and pushed my hair behind my ear. "And you've already lost your groom? I think you should call Guinness. That's got to be a new record."

"I'm certain someone's already beat me," I muttered.

"Honey, don't ruin this night," Coop shook his head, sounding a little fed up with me. I didn't get mad at him – I would be fed up with me, too. "You can't keep waiting for Mason to conjure up the romantic moments for you. And you can't expect everything to be perfect either."

"I didn't expect everything to be perfect," I denied. "I just expected my best friend to be here."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Coop shrugged.

I glared at him.

"Okay," He put up his hands defensively. "I get it. This is no time for joking."

My eyes left Coop and went back to the tent. As if he'd called my name, my eyes landed directly on Mason. He was talking to a tall, wide man in a ratted suit – it took me a couple moments for me to recognize him to be Chief Donohue. I doubted Mason had invited him. In a small place like Forks, everyone knew about big events such as this. The entire town was probably here.

"So what if Nathaniel didn't show up?" Coop followed my gaze. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that you are now Mrs. Ryder, and you have to go over there to make sure that Mason knows that too."

My eyes left Mason and landed on Coop. "You are excellent at pep talks."

"I'm a doctor," He chuckled. "Not a motivational speaker."

I looked back at Mason, watching as Chief Donohue lingered away.

"I would get over there, if I were you," Coop patted my lower back and then stepped back towards the stairs. "Your husband is waiting for you."

The words made my blood boil, making me clammy.

"Are you capable of moving?" He chuckled, leaning against the railing.

"Catch me if I faint, Coop," My eyes never left Mason as he stood idly in the center of the dancefloor. "But I think I just realized that that's _my_ husband."

He smirked, "Everyone already knew that."

I was about to speak again, but I heard a door gently click shut. And, turning, I saw that Coop had disappeared into the house. There was some ethereal feeling to Coop tonight – he seemed more like my conscience than a guest. In fact, the whole night had felt ethereal so far.

And I was not about to let it go to waste.

I left the back steps and made my way towards the tent, watching Mason's back as if I were afraid he was going to disappear. Coming up behind him, I wrapped my arms around him, standing up on my toes so that my mouth could reach his ear.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

He turned in my grasp so that he could face me, his arms taking their rightful place around my waist. I could hear his hesitant breathing against my hair as I buried my face in his chest; he didn't speak for a couple minutes, making me anxious.

His customary response: "You have nothing to be sorry for."

I pulled away to look up at his face. "Stop saying that. I have everything to be sorry for. If hadn't become friends with Nathaniel in the first place …"

"We wouldn't be nearly as sturdy," He interrupted, finishing my sentence.

My eyes were glued to his as I tried to read his expression word for word.

"As much as I oppose the guy, he made us stronger," Mason shook his head. "And if we ever see him again – which I'm sure we will – I will have to thank him for that. Remember what I said. Nathaniel and I are still at the 'going at each other's throats' stage. But _you_ and he aren't."

My skin tingled as he reached up and cradled my head in his hands.

"You two are friends," He sighed. "And, as much as I may want to, I can't change that. You bonded when I wasn't here, and I understand that."

He paused.

"I just want you to realize that I'm okay with it," Mason stroked my cheek.

My heart fluttered. Maybe I wasn't such a complete failure. "Really?"

"Of course," He leaned forward, his lips meeting mine. My pulse hastened as he kissed me stronger, but my satisfaction wasn't long-lived; he pulled away, eyeing me carefully as he added, "But I still hate him from a competitive standpoint."

I nodded, "I know."

"Good," He smiled. "For a second there, I was getting a little too mushy. I'd like to preserve my masculinity, if you don't mind."

I smiled, leaning in to kiss him again, "You're man enough for me."

"Well, I don't know," He shrugged, his hands slipping from my face and into mine. "I married you. And I've already realized that one of the conditions of marrying a romance novelist is having a strong tolerance for chick flicks and the concept of forbidden love. What about that sounds masculine to you?"

"None of it," I answered honestly.

He laughed, "Exactly."

As I kept my eyes on him, I began to consider what Coop had said before: _you__can__'__t__keep__waiting__for__Mason__to__conjure__up__the__romantic__moments__for__you_. I knew he was right, and, besides, so far when it came to the score for romantic incentive, Mason was most certainly winning. I had to start pulling my weight.

"How about the acclaimed spotlight dance?" I picked up his right hand and placed it on my waist. "In spite of the lack of a spotlight and my lack of knowledge when it comes to dancing."

He smiled hesitantly. "Oh, why not."

Pulling our hands up and pressing my waist up against him, Mason was about to step forward, but he stopped. When I looked up at him keenly, he straightened his back, staring back at me uncomfortably.

"I've never been much of a dancer," He shrugged.

"And we've established that I'm not much of a dancer either," I challenged.

"And …" He paused. "I don't know. I'm just … stupid."

My eyes widened as I realized what the problem was. "You're embarrassed."

He chuckled under his breath, the sound making all the hairs on the nape of my neck stand up on end. "I'm not embarrassed. Not of being with you, at least."

"It's the fact that we're the _only_ ones dancing," I figured. And as I thought about it more, his fear became my own. "You're right. Maybe we shouldn't …"

He grinned, "Oh, the hell with it. This is our night. We're supposed to stand out anyway." And with that, we began to dance.

Mason took the first step, and my feet instinctively followed him. We took it very slow at first, and I continually looked up at him to make sure that I was doing all of this correctly. He would just nod and then continue to look down on me with a proud smile on his face.

I began to notice several eyes turning our direction, but when I recognized that Mason didn't care, I decided not to either. He sped up only once, but then slowed to a steady tempo after a couple of minutes – our beat was completely divergent to the music sputtering quietly out of the DJ's speakers. As a matter of fact, I hadn't even noticed that there was a DJ until just now; I suppose there had just been too much on my mind.

But now my thought bank was clear and my attention was entirely on Mason.

There were no thoughts of the problems at hand, because right now there was no problem to get in the way. Maybe everyone had been right – it was a good thing that Nathaniel didn't come. I could practically visualize the awkward situation it could have presented if he had.

And the fact that Nathaniel didn't come could only be a sign. I didn't believe in omens, but if I did, I would be sure that this was one. Just like I had promised myself before, this was _our_day. This was Mason and my day. Nathaniel would not interfere, because I wouldn't let him.

Perhaps Nathaniel had been smart enough to see this coming. Perhaps he had known that if he had come, then this very moment would never have existed. I would not have been in Mason's arms, dancing around the dancefloor as if we were alone. Instead, I would have been worrying about what Nathaniel was doing or what Nathaniel was thinking.

Nathaniel would not interfere with this day. I would not let him.

Mason slowed even more now, closing his eyes for a protracted moment. His eyes opened again, and there was a tint to them that made me almost want to cry. It wasn't because he was sad or angry. But it was because he was happy.

It struck me at that moment that Mason always did too much for me, sacrificed too much for me. Up until now I had been forcing myself to think that I was not taking anything from him – I tried to convince myself that we were both looking to start fresh, not wanting to look back on anything. He didn't want to look back on Madison and I didn't want to look back on the long lonely months I had endured in Lilli's absence.

But I knew now that it wasn't like that. He didn't pick up our eighth grade year book because he was bored or because he was looking to start over. It was because of _me_. And I could easily know that was true just by looking into his soft blue eyes right now.

I figured it was my turn to do the sacrificing. "So … sunlight," I sighed.

"What about it?" He pulled me closer, if that were even humanly possible.

"I hear California is beautiful this time of year," I said, even though I hadn't really heard anything at all. Mason's eyebrow rose, and I took that as a signal – two states down wasn't enough. "But I hear Florida is beautiful all year round. It's nearly sunny every day."

His eyebrows furrowed now, his lips curving into a soft smile.

I needed to go even further. "But you know where there's plenty of sunlight? Ecuador. I mean, they get sun all the time. That must be so pretty."

Mason's eyes softened, "I know what you're doing."

"Do you?" I smiled coyly.

"We can go wherever you want for the honeymoon," He offered willingly. "Don't worry about my standards. I can live without the sun for a little while."

I heaved a sigh. So he _didn__'__t_know what I was doing. I continued, "And maybe, after a sunny honeymoon, we can stay there, you know? Because I think I've already lived my fair share of sunless days."

He exhaled – now he understood. "You have a life here. You don't have to give that up just for the sake of daylight."

"It's not for the sake of daylight," I shook my head. "It's for _your_ sake. I feel like you give up too much for me, and I feel like I give nothing back to you."

"Are you kidding?" He stopped dancing completely now. "You are my life. It doesn't feel like sacrifice to me as long as you're happy. I want what you want, and if what you want is to be here then so do I."

"Well, what if I said I want what you want," I exhaled.

His eyebrows furrowed again. "Then it looks like we have a problem."

"No problem whatsoever," I denied. "If you really want what I want then you will be okay with the fact that I want what you want."

He paused. "Are you trying to use reverse psychology on me?"

"No," I smiled as our hands fell to our sides. "I'm just willing to do whatever you want to do. If you want to move, then I will go with you."

"Without a fight?" He found it hard to believe.

"You might have to strap me down to the roof of the car," I shrugged teasingly. "But, I guess, I'll go if it's for you."

"Great," He grinned. "I know just the place."

My heart fell – I didn't know he would take me up on the offer so soon. "Oh, well, where is that? Wherever it is, I'm fine with it."

"Don't worry. It's not far," He smiled, grasping my hands. "Only about three blocks away from here. I saw the perfect house – it's big with white siding and a giant tree out front. I heard someone say it's designed to look like something from this vampire movie, but I'm not really sure." He had to stop himself before he died of laughter.

His eyes lit up as he processed my expression.

I was amazed. "You really want to stay in Forks?"

"Believe me," Mason intertwined our fingers. "If you asked me a month ago, I would have been packing tonight and gone in the morning." He stopped.

"But …?" I waited for him.

"But," His eyes left me and glanced around the tent. "As much as I hate to say it, I think I have fallen in love with the mossy, damp, rainy town of Forks … despite its lack of sunlight."

I shook my head in disbelief. "I can't believe you're doing this for me."

"Oh, it's not for you," He exhaled jokingly. "It's entirely for me. I feel like I sacrifice too much for you, so this one's mine."

I smiled widely, "And I am perfectly okay with that."

I pressed my head against his chest. I could hear his muffled heartbeat and I channeled my slow breaths to match its tempo. His hands wrapped around my lower back as pulled me closer. And at that moment, I felt exhausted. All of this smiling and hoping was giving me whiplash.

Turning my head, so I could look up him, I noticed his face was very close.

"Oh, wilt thou leave me unsatisfied?" He murmured quietly, his lips barely brushing my cheek.

My breathing lost check with his heartbeat and reached a stifled phase of hyperventilation. I knew these words. I had read them over and over again, but they hadn't meant much to me until now. "What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?"

He paused, staring into my eyes lovingly.

I knew what this meant. Before, Mason had been too afraid to say this one line – the circumstances were different then and so was our relationship. And I could see in his eyes that he knew what this meant too.

Mason was silent so long I thought that he had forgotten the line. But after a couple moments, he leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper. "The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine."

I held my breath. "I gave thee mine before thou didst request it."

He grinned, his lips gently caressing my jaw and then my cheek. Before he could reach my mouth, though, he stopped, taking a deep breath. "I love you."

I pulled him in, kissing him carefully. Once I finally let him go, I whispered, "And I love you." And there was nothing more to it.


	26. Chapter 21

"I just don't understand the appeal," Mason sighed.

We sat down on opposite sides of the kitchen table, watching each other with loving, weary eyes. It had to be 11:00 PM by now. We had just finished watching _Breaking __Dawn: __Part __One_ for what had to have been the millionth time. For me, it never got old; for him, it was old after the first time.

"You'll have to explain it to me," He leaned back in his chair.

"It's not so much the fact that they're werewolves and vampires, I guess," I shrugged, keeping my eyes on him. "Although I'm sure that's a contributing factor. It is probably the romantic fantasy dynamic of it all – the fact that their situation is so _sur_real, but their love is _completely_ real."

"Hmm," His lips curved up into a smile. "Maybe if they wrote that on the label, they would have a wider audience."

I laughed.

He glanced out at the black glass of the window, watching as the small raindrops pathetically tapped against the window. These were only leftovers from the incredible downpour that had hit Forks today. Our only damage was a short power outage that lasted about five minutes – luckily, we hadn't gotten the worst of it.

A giant tree had fallen up our street, blocking us from directly reaching the rest of the town. Last we heard, they were already sawing it up and getting it out of the way by nightfall. Nonetheless, we decided to play hermits today and hide out in the house, watching movies all day long. Too bad it wasn't a weekday – otherwise, we could've had a liable excuse to miss work.

"So, I was going through our photos from the honeymoon on the computer yesterday," Mason stood, walking over to the refrigerator. "Some of them are real keepers. We should get a few framed."

Oh, the honeymoon. Despite Mason's willingness to let me choose where we could go, he had already planned the whole thing – which I should've expected. He refused to tell me where it was specifically, so I had no idea where it was near or what coast it was off. All I remember is falling asleep in the plane from California and waking up in a soft bed on some faraway tropical island.

Even though I had grown virtually allergic to sunlight, the trip made me realize that I needed some sun whether I knew it or not. Everything was perfect there and I couldn't have asked for anything better. Surprising the both of us, I didn't even freak out when he told me how much the whole thing cost. It was expensive – which I also should've expected.

In spite of all this, though, I was thrilled to come home.

"Well, I will have to authorize each photo before you blow it up and hang it on the wall where everyone can see it," I shook my head, crossing my arms across my chest. "I'm not photogenic, so I can just imagine the catastrophic consequences of putting me in front of a camera."

He pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge. "Well, I beg to differ. I think you took some beautiful pictures."

"Yeah, maybe the ones I took, not the ones I was in," I joked, standing.

"You know that's not what I meant," He grinned, handing me the water.

I untwisted the lid off the water after hoisting myself up to sit on the counter.

"If anything," He leaned against the fridge beside me. "I was the one that was not photogenic. I was tempted to delete every picture with me in it. I especially didn't appreciate that one picture you took of me when I was half asleep."

I tried to suppress a laugh. "I thought it was adorable."

"How about this," He offered. "We don't frame any of them and just keep them on the computer in a locked file where only we can get to them."

"Sounds good to me," I slid off the countertop. "But maybe just one picture. One that doesn't embarrass either of us."

I walked away from him and over to my iPod dock, pressing the skip button. Electric guitar began to waft out of the speakers and I turned down the volume so that it was just soft background noise. I turned to look back at Mason, only to realize that he was right behind me.

"Why do you want to frame one picture?" He wondered curiously.

"I'm a newlywed wife," I reminded him, yawning. "If it were up to me, I would want to flaunt our relationship all over the place. I'm just … excited, I guess."

"You don't sound excited," He teased.

"That's just because I'm tired," I sighed.

"So, if you're excited," He pushed my hair behind my ear. "Does that mean all your apprehension is gone?"

"It disappeared when I was walking down that aisle," I told him.

"Really?" He seemed happy to hear that.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I figured that if you were okay with everything, then I was. Besides, seeing everybody there – my friends and all – it made me feel better. Knowing that everyone knew about us and everyone was okay with it."

His smile weakened slightly.

"What?" I wondered.

"Well, not _everyone_ was okay with it," He exhaled.

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

Over the honeymoon, Mason had sworn when we got onto the plane that we wouldn't utter the name Nathaniel while we were away. So we didn't, but that didn't mean I couldn't stop thinking about him. Even though I had been annoyed with Nathaniel before, I couldn't help but blame myself in the end. I was guilty, even though I had nothing to be guilty for.

And Mason knew that. I could tell he knew.

"Nathaniel wasn't there," I evaded Mason's eyes, staring out at the raindrops. "So he doesn't count as an 'everyone.'"

He backed out of my grasp, "I'm glad to hear that."

I watched him with wide, incredulous eyes as he sat back down at the table. I was about to say, 'What is that supposed to mean?', but I didn't want to make this one of those nights. I didn't want to ruin this perfectly content moment with a worthless argument. I decided to let the topic be.

But Mason continued on the subject, "Speaking of which, have you heard from him at all since … you know, the thing?"

The thing. That's what we'd been reduced to calling it. Probably because we both couldn't face what it really was. There were other possible nicknames, sure – the ordeal with Nathaniel, the incident with the wolves, that night in the woods – but no matter what we decided to call that night, it still hurt all the same.

"No," I answered in a small voice. "I haven't heard from him."

Mason shrugged, looking at me solicitously. "Maybe you should call him."

My eyes widened even more, pleasantly astonished. "Are you actually suggesting that I come in contact with him? I am amazed."

"I told you," His eyes retreated to the rain again. "I'm okay with it."

"Alright," I nodded, pushing off the counter. "Then I will call him."

He glimpsed at me briefly, and I could see the fleeting pain in his eyes. He could say he was okay with it all he wanted, but it was obvious that he was exactly the opposite. Honestly, I blamed myself for this – I shouldn't have been stupid enough to believe him. But whether it hurt him or not, I still needed to talk to Nathaniel – there was no getting around it.

With one last look at Mason, I picked the phone up out of the dock and left the kitchen. After dialing the number, I waited idly in the foyer, staring out the front door at the street. The dial tone began to sound in my ear and I made my way to the living room. I considered sitting down on the couch, but I was too antsy.

I went to the window instead; the sight of rain calmed me down.

"Hey," Nathaniel's voice said finally, abnormally joyful.

"Nathaniel," I smiled at the sound of his voice. "I need to talk to you …"

He interrupted me, "You've reached Nate. Sorry, I'm obviously doing something other than answering my phone, but if you leave a message, I'll call ya later when I feel like it."

_Beep_.

I exhaled, my smile vanishing. "Um, hey, Nathaniel. It's Scarlett. I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to, but I, uh, I miss hearing your voice. So, call me, please …"

I stopped. I sounded too fraught.

"By the way," I continued, stronger now. "I am still pissed at you for skipping out on my wedding. You're lucky I don't come down to the Rez and murder you in your sleep. Call me back."

And I hung up.

I could feel a torrent of tears churning just behind my eyes, but they didn't come for a couple minutes. And, to torture me even more, they came slowly – they didn't even let me choke on them or turn them into sobs. I shook my head, trying to send the tears away, but when they wouldn't go, I stared out the window. I couldn't go back into the kitchen – I didn't want Mason see me cry for Nathaniel.

I wouldn't _let_ him see me cry for Nathaniel.

So I waited until they thinned out by staring at my backyard. I watched the light rain fall from the sky, noting that my own tears fell at the very same pace. Forks was grieving with me. Or at least mocking my inability to get through a single thought about Nathaniel without crying.

"Did he pick up?" I heard Mason's voice from behind me.

I didn't turn to look at him, humiliated. "No."

"Oh, love," I heard his footsteps coming closer to me, and then I felt his arms wrap around my waist. I wanted to pull away, but the touch was too comforting – I couldn't pull away from it. "Don't blame yourself."

It was like he could read my mind. "Why not?"

"It's late," He rubbed my waist lovingly. "He's probably just asleep."

"Or he's ignoring me," I surmised.

Mason's arms snapped away unexpectedly and the tingle where they were only a couple seconds ago still remained. I turned to face him and he was looking down at the floor, fists clenched.

"None of this is your fault," He sighed. "That's why I keep saying that you have nothing to be sorry for. Nathaniel will come back, and you will take him with open arms … and that's just the way it will be. You can't rush it."

I analyzed him as he sat down on the couch, frozen.

His eyes stared straight forward, avoiding mine at all costs. The soft light from the kitchen poured out into the foyer and part of the living room, illuminating half of Mason's face. He leaned forward, pressing his elbows against his knees and holding his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry," I apologized meekly.

He laughed silently under his breath. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Ugh," I sat down beside him, exhaling. "Just forgive me already."

"Why should I?" He pulled his hands away from his face and looked over at me. "Like I said at the reception, it's _my_ entire fault. I was the one who let you into the woods. And if I hadn't, then the whole thing wouldn't have happened."

I winced. The thing – it was becoming a curse word in my mind.

"Just forgive me," I pleaded.

"Fine," He snapped his eyes away from me. "I forgive you. Happy now?"

My mind raced, recognizing those words from long ago. _I __forgive __you. __Are __you __happy __now? _The words came from Nathaniel's mouth; that was all I knew for sure. It took me a moment to remember the circumstance, but then it all came back to me – it was the first day I had gone to Adam and Robyn's house. I had playfully told Nathaniel that I preferred blondes, and it had apparently been the wrong thing to say. He stormed out after that – into the woods, I remembered.

Was it a bad sign that I retained almost everything Nathaniel said to me?

My next line was instinctive, "I'm sorry if I offended you."

Mason's eyes met mine. "You didn't offend me. It just upsets me that you keep blaming all of Nathaniel's mistakes on yourself."

"I try not to," I exhaled.

"And I know that," He nodded. "Maybe you're the one that's ready to forgive Nathaniel, but he's not ready to be forgiven."

There was a long pause.

"He hasn't been a very good friend to you," Mason continued in a low, careful voice. "And don't get mad at me for saying that. I mean, he ignores your calls and he doesn't come to even talk things out with you, and it only causes you pain. So, I think that the only thing you can do now is stop putting all of this on your shoulders and start expecting _him_ to be the man in this friendship."

I mulled the words over, watching Mason all the while.

He was right. Every word he'd said was one hundred percent true. And it wasn't until just now that I realized that. Blaming myself was getting us nowhere – and I was just destroying my relationship with Mason and my relationship with Nathaniel in the process.

"You're spending too much time with me," I leaned against his shoulder, a small smile crossing my face. "Either I surround myself with a bunch of sappy guys or my sentimentality is starting to rub off on everyone I come in contact with."

Mason chuckled quietly, "I think you have the ability to drain testosterone."

"What a talent," I rolled my eyes. "I'll be sure to update my résumé."

I rested my head between his chin and collar bone, locking my arms around his neck. Inhaling, I was drunk on his scent, as I always was. My vision blacked out for a moment and I could feel my heartbeat skip a couple necessary beats, but I was back to normal in a couple of seconds. I had been with him long enough now to master my self-control. Sure, he still mystified me frequently, but I had learned to deal with it. This was a helpful acquired skill – I was able to keep a cool head long enough for the perfect moments to last just a little while longer.

Exhaling, I pulled away briefly to look at his face. "I will need to talk to him eventually, though. I can't let him keep this between us and then decide to accept my apology when it's too late."

Mason looked away for a moment, staring straight ahead. "I agree."

I shook my head in quiet disbelief, whispering, "How do you do it?"

His eyes met mine and a soft grin crossed his face. "Do what?"

"How come you are so understanding when it comes all of this?" I wondered, a bit incredulous. "It makes no sense. You're not even mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad?" His eyes were wide with curiosity.

"I screwed up," I reminded him. "I almost killed our relationship by bringing Nathaniel into all of this and creating this stupid love triangle. How can you not be the least bit disappointed in me?"

He smiled weakly, his blue eyes retreating to the floor. "I'm not disappointed because I've been through all of this before."

I watched his expression fall.

I didn't have to ask for him to explain. "I know what it feels like to think that you've let someone you love down. And then, on top of that pain, you have a whole other problem – someone else that you feel like you have to impress. I remember I felt bad at first for letting my relationship with Madison go, and then I had my job to worry about … my future to worry about. And my parents were on my back …" His voice disappeared.

I remained silent.

His eyes left the floor and met mine. "This is something _you_ have to conquer. Time can't solve this and neither can anyone else. Some wounds heal themselves, and others require a little more attention." He wrapped his arms around me, gently pulling me up and placing me on his lap. "Trust me. I'm a doctor."

I rested my head against his shoulder again. "So, you're telling me that I can't overlook this and expect it to just blow over? That I have to face it head on?"

He nodded. "It sounds hard, doesn't it?"

My closed my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath.

"But you can do it," He reassured me. "You're strong. Nathaniel may have the muscles on the outside, but you have 'em where it counts."

I laughed under my breath.

He brought his hand to my chin and softly pulled me into a kiss. It was short, but it was enough to slightly soothe my anxious qualms. His hand slid down my arm and then wrapped around my palm. I felt as his fingers found my wedding ring that remained proudly on my index finger. He pulled back to look at it, smiling gently.

"I like seeing that," He rubbed his thumb across the embedded gems.

"I think you just like knowing that I'm yours," I corrected.

"Yeah, that too," He smirked, kissing me again, stronger this time.

This time, he didn't stop purposefully. He was interrupted.

There was a quiet knock on the door – if it had been raining any harder, we would have most certainly missed it. With my luck, I wouldn't be shocked if it was Nathaniel; he always did have a way of ruining the most perfect moments.

"I've got it," I stood up out of Mason's grasp.

He didn't let go willingly. "Alright."

I made my way to the door sluggishly, in no hurry. Once I got there, though, the person anxiously knocked again, louder this time. I was reaching for the door when I saw the person on the other side of the glass turn and run down the steps.

Heatedly, I pulled open the door, staring into their back. "Hey!"

The person stopped in their tracks, still facing away from me.

"If you are going to ding-dong ditch my house, you might as well use the door bell next time," I shook my head. It was then that a caught a glimpse of a taxi parked in the driveway behind my truck. That was strange – it was rare to see a cab in Forks.

Slowly, the stranger turned to face me, the words coming out in a silent rush, "I'm sorry. I know it's late and I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I just wanted to come to you first. I feel like you are the only person I could trust …"

I was unable to process the rest of the words he said.

The overwhelming shock was a bit too much to bear. For a second, I began to question if I was even awake right now – his face had become nothing more than a dreamlike memory in these past few months. And now here he stood, his words urgently pleading but his face unnaturally calm. If everything was muted right now, I wouldn't have suspected anything to be out of the ordinary just by looking at his face.

One thing I did notice, though, was that he seemed much, much older.

He was still in the midst of apologizing when I ran down the steps – almost slipping – and wrapped my arms around him. "Asher!"

I could tell he was hesitant. "You're happy to see me?"

"Of course!" I exclaimed, pulling back. I could only begin to imagine the look on Krista's face when she heard the news. "I thought I would never see you again!"

He was a little more eager to hug me back now. "You're not mad?"

"Oh, I'm furious," I stepped back out of his grasp. "I can't believe you would be so _stupid_! Your mother has been to hell and back because of you. And I'm pretty sure that you are going to be grounded for the rest of your life. Take a good look around because this is probably the last time you will ever see the outdoors."

He couldn't take being out of my arms very long. Jumping back into a hug, he continued, "I will take the consequences with open arms. I was stupid and I deserve it." I could tell he was sincere – and regretful.

My face fell and I pushed out of his grasp again, this time not letting him try to pull me back. I remembered when the case was still fresh a couple of months ago – Nathaniel had told me that it wouldn't be surprising if Asher was arrested. I was standing here talking about him getting grounded, when the real possibilities were that he would be behind bars. I couldn't picture the innocent little child that I met a little over a year ago in prison.

"_Any_ consequence?" I sighed.

"Whatever it takes," He shrugged, glancing over at the cab.

"Asher," I looked down at my feet and then back at him. "My friend is on the Forks PD. He told me awhile ago that you could be charged for an endless amount of crimes – they have no way of knowing all the damage you've done. They might …"

He already knew what I was going to say. "I'm going to jail."

My throat constricted. "Maybe."

"I can't believe this," He stepped back as if I had just slapped him in the face. "Does anyone remember how much my family has given to this town? The Masons have been in Forks for generations!"

"I don't think something as little as a good family name will get you out of this one," I began to play with my hands. The nervous habit.

"It's not that, Scarlett," His voice grew quiet. "Everyone here has known me since I was a baby. They know I wouldn't do any of the accusations they made. All those notices said that I was a kidnapper, a criminal. I didn't do anything that way – I wanted to make sure I did everything right. Why do they think that I'm some kind of … monster?"

I couldn't find the words to say.

His voice rose in volume, more aggressive now. "I was scared out of my mind. You have no idea how scared I was. At first, it felt great, to be without judgment. It was amazing to be able to stand on my own. But after the first month, I felt horrible … and it was _your_ fault." He jabbed a finger at me.

"Me?" My eyes widened.

"All I could hear was your voice telling me that it was a mistake," He stared down at the grass blankly. "I sent you that e-mail before because I was afraid of the rest of the world. I felt like you were the only one I could trust. I was terrified – I wanted to come home so badly. But we didn't have the money. We spent all of our savings on getting out of town that we didn't have enough to go back …. We were stuck trying to save up … we wanted to be in Forks bad, though."

I felt terrible. They had been living their life in fear. And while the rest of the country thought that they wanted nothing more than to get away, all they wanted was to come back.

"How long have you been gone?" I went through the numbers in my head. "I'm adding 'em up and it says almost half a year, but I want to be wrong."

"That's right," He nodded.

There was a short pause.

"I was scared," He repeated, his eyes wandering back to the taxi. "And then I looked into those two little eyes, and then I wasn't scared anymore."

I had almost forgotten the reason he left. I nodded, "The baby."

He smiled up at me, "Oh, I can't wait for you to meet her. She's adorable."

There were no words to say. I was just thankful he was happy.

"At first," He admitted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Once again, his eyes retreated to the taxi cab. "I was afraid of becoming a dad. But it's not so bad, minus the puke and diapers and stuff. But it should be easier to raise her with my family nearby. Gabrielle could really use my mom's help."

I crossed my arms across my chest. "I hate to say I told you so …"

He laughed, putting his hands up defensively, "I know, I know. I should have listened to you. But I wasn't in my right mind when I decided that. I was tired and frustrated … and so was Gabrielle. Neither of us was being very smart."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"All that I can do," He shrugged. "We're gonna go over to my parents' place tonight, which should be hell. I'm not sure I want to face them, but I know that I've got to. As for the future, though, I'm probably going to buy a place in the same neighborhood as my folks and get a job in Port Angeles, maybe take some college courses online. Gabby will just be happy to start a family right, I'm sure. She's probably sick of raising a baby out of dingy motel room.

"It'll be nice to not have to run anymore," He sighed. When I looked at him cautiously, he added, "I know this isn't over yet. I'll have to deal with the police, smooth out the claims as best I can. But I'm glad because I can see the end in sight. This is almost over."

I shook my head, stepping forward and wrapping him into a hug. "You have no idea how worried Krista's been, and me, too. I don't ever want you to do anything like that again for as long as you live. If you do, I just might have to kill you."

He chuckled, "And I just might let you."

Pulling back, he glanced back at the taxi, this time making a move towards it. I could tell he was itching to leave – the sooner he got to his parents, the better.

"Oh, by the way," His eyes came back to me, a lively mockery to them now. "I was hanging down at the diner – undercover, of course – just to see if my dad was okay, and I overheard some old men at the bar."

"Don't believe elderly gossip," I warned jokingly.

"So, it's a lie, then?" His eyes widened. "You're not married?"

"Oh," I looked instinctively down at my wedding ring. "I guess the elderly aren't as senile as I've been led on to believe."

"When I came over to see you," He confessed, "sure, it was because I wanted to let you know that I was back and that I was okay. But I also wanted to see if the rumors were true myself. Once I saw the other car in the driveway, I figured it was true. I'm really happy for you both."

"Thanks," I muttered. The word was so soft that it flew away with the wind.

"I never thought I'd see the day, though," He sighed. "I always pictured you and Dr. Cooper as just friends."

I shook my head, "Coop? No way. I'm not married to him."

"Well, that's the only surgeon I know in this town. Unless, I missed something while I was gone."

"An old friend of mine started working up at the hospital a couple weeks after you left," I told him. "And we just kind of hit it off." I laughed under my breath.

"Oh," He nodded. "And, the other rumor, that's true too, right?"

"Don't believe _everything_ you hear," I stared up at the moonless sky.

"So you didn't get attacked in the woods by some wolves?" He smiled.

"God, where does everyone hear all this stuff?" I gawked.

"Small town," Asher shrugged with a laugh. "Big ears."

"Well, yes, I did get attacked by the pack," I noted that he glanced at the taxi again – my only guess was that Gabrielle and the baby were inside. He was just being protective, I knew. "And it certainly was not my finest hour."

"And, I'm guessing if that rumor is true," He nodded. "Then so is the other."

"What else is everyone saying about me?" I grinned. "I swear, I think I should just start my own blog or something. That way people won't have to try as hard to dig into my personal life."

"It's not about you," He denied. "It's about … my sister."

The memory of that fateful day flashed in front of my eyes again. Being forced to tell Krista about Gemma's death was possibly one of the most painful things I had ever done – or at least it made the top ten.

"Um," I struggled to find my voice. "What have you heard?"

"She died a little over a month ago," He sighed.

I didn't have to say it for him to understand.

"I should have seen that coming," He looked away from me.

Out of all the responses I could predicted someone would say after discovering their sibling was dead, that certainly wasn't one of them. I watched as he shifted his weight slowly – it was clear under his impressive poker face that he was deeply hurt.

"If I hadn't left …." He stopped himself and then started again, "There could have been one more person to protect her. She had a life ahead of her."

"So did you," I wouldn't let him blame himself.

"My situation was different," He said indifferently. "I _chose_ to give my future up, but she had it all spread out in front of her. She was ready for life and I pushed it away. It's different."

"Not really," I replied stubbornly.

He looked up at me, a curious smile on his face.

Shrugging, I pulled the sleeves of my jacket over my fists. This coat was too light for the weather, despite the fact that it was the middle of spring. The Pacific Northwest's winds still swept through Forks with the same crisp climate of winter.

"I should be going," Asher rolled back on his heels. "It's late and the baby is already asleep. I'll be glad to get some sleep myself."

"Go," I urged. "Tell Krista I say hi."

"I will," He allowed. "If she lets me talk between suffocating hugs and frantic death threats, that is. I'm scared she'll have my head for this one."

"I don't think you'll even be that lucky." I headed for the steps.

When I turned to look back at him, he was already at the end of the walk and by the taxi. I waved goodbye, and he waved back. Just before I was about to go inside, he called my attention back to him.

"Thank you," He pushed open the door, and I could see Gabrielle inside.

"Why are you thanking me?" I wondered. "If I hadn't suggested you leave, you would've still been here."

"Yes," He acknowledged, but then he continued, "But I would have been itching to leave. Now that I've left and I've grown up, I realized … life sucks, so I might as well just take what I'm given and be happy about it."

I smiled, suppressing a laugh. "That's a good philosophy."

"It's also helpful," He nodded in agreement. "Wish I would have figured that out sooner. It definitely would have made my life a hell of a lot easier."

I nodded, grinning, "Have a good night, Asher."

"You too," He climbed into the cab and after a couple prolonged seconds, the car pulled out onto the street and around the corner, disappearing into the darkness.

Unlike my previous observation – that too many cars had pulled out of that driveway and decided not to come back – I felt confident watching this vehicle leave. I knew now that everything was beginning to fall back into place. Forks had been too overdramatic lately, and that only meant that it was only a matter of time before things would settle again.

And then, for a couple years, life would be good.

Everyone would be content and everything would be balanced. But nothing could be content and nothing could be balanced all on its own. Just like Mason had said, I couldn't wait for time or anyone else to do the fixing. It was all on me now, and despite the severe insignificance of my task, I was terrified.

_The __fate __of __the __world __is __on __your __shoulders_, I thought to myself. _Don__'__t __mess __up_.

* * *

><p>Spring forward. Fall back.<p>

Time passed, in spite of my urge to pull everything to a standstill. But life in motion wasn't all that bad – having someone to spend it with made it that much more bearable. Work soldiered on, the weeks soldiered on, and so did I. It was perpetual and steady; and often uneventful. Mason and I would go to work and come home, and the more that pattern sustained, the more I came to like it.

There was one thing, however, that quickly transformed from pattern to habit.

And it wasn't something that I figured was very healthy for me.

Every night, right before going to bed, I would tell Mason that I needed something from downstairs or that I was thirsty, and sneak down to the kitchen. I wasn't becoming a hoarder or a glutton, but I'm sure that it could be classified as some sort of medical condition.

Every night, I would call Nathaniel and, every night, he would never answer.

Some of my messages were desperate and along the lines of 'I miss you' or 'I love you.' Others were angry, just drops from the bottled fury that was boiling just under my surface – 'You can't hide from me forever' and 'you're acting like a child.' But the majority of my messages were empty threats, saying that 'I thought you said you would never hurt me' or that 'I guess not choosing you was a good idea, considering that you are being a big baby right now' and that 'you should grow up and move on.'

But there was never any sincerity to what I said.

Sure, when I said the words, I meant them. But when I went back and thought about what I had said later, I felt nothing but guilt – I knew that they were all lies. I hoped that, by the time Nathaniel finally decided talk to me, I would have my explanations straight and my feelings sorted out. But that was all dependent on if he ever decided to talk to me again.

Nonetheless, I kept all my feelings concealed.

And for awhile, I thought I was pretty stealth. Mason didn't seem to be aware of my nightly phone calls and he showed no signs of concern; we went on with life smoothly with few bumps, and Mason seemed happy. But it turned out that he was a better actor than I had previously assumed.

One night, after one particularly painful phone call that only Nathaniel's voicemail would ever hear, I came up to find Mason waiting on the bed where he always was. I found nothing out of the ordinary as I came to lie beside him and we began to talk quietly like we always did. But, as I soon began to tell by his tone, he was forlorn. Then he started repeating some of the heartrending statements I had admitted silently between sobs into the telephone downstairs.

"Does he listen to you?" He asked that night, his face concealed by the dark.

"He doesn't answer," I admitted it slowly, dejected.

And that was as far as the conversation went.

The next day surprised me, though. He woke up, pretending that the previous night hadn't even happened, and went on through the day without mentioning it even once. So, I followed suit; I forgot that Mason knew and went back to thinking that my routine was my little secret.

Two months after the wedding and a little more than two months without Nathaniel, I decided that I would only make one more phone call. It was useless venting my feelings to air. I could do that without the telephone – it would have saved me a lot on the phone bill, too.

So on the last night, I stood up from the bed and told Mason that I was 'cold and going to get my coat from downstairs.' He nodded wordlessly and let me go. I picked up the phone helplessly, dialing the number and waiting. I felt some insane hope in the pit of my stomach, some inkling that tonight would be the night where Nathaniel would finally pick up.

But, to no surprise, he didn't answer. I mouthed Nathaniel's words as he spoke them, since I had practically memorized his voicemail by now, and waited for the mechanical _beep_ to sound.

When it did, I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry to bother you again. Your answering machine is probably busted with all the messages I've been leaving, but I've just been anxious lately. I guess I need someone to talk to. Someone that will get me … or maybe I just need my best friend's voicemail. Yeah, that's probably it. I rather to talk to something inanimate than to something that can talk back, you know?

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that I'm not going to be calling anymore, considering I don't find that there is any more purpose in it. If you choose to call me back or even – God forbid – come and visit, then I will be glad to talk to you and hear your voice. But if you want a clean break, I understand. I think that's what we both need, since …" The mechanic _beep_ reverberated through my ears, signaling that my time was up.

With another deep breath, I pulled the phone away from my ear (all of a sudden, it seemed to weigh a million pounds) and placed it back in the dock. I stood there motionless in the kitchen, only the light from the streetlamp outside illuminating my surroundings. I would have been standing there for hours if I hadn't heard the floorboards creak above me.

I left my spot in the kitchen and headed for the stairwell, only to find that Mason was there waiting for me. I knew that he had overheard everything – I could tell by the look on his face. I played it cool, though.

"I was just coming up," I lied.

He ignored my transparent lie. "I've been trying to figure Nathaniel out."

My breathing fell out of step for only a moment, but then it returned to normal. I stepped up and sat down on the fifth stair from the bottom. In turn, Mason sat beside me, wrapping his arm around me.

"Enlighten me," I exhaled deeply, a very nasal sound.

"I don't know how he does it," he shrugged, running his hand gently through my hair. "He has so much influence on you without even coming near you. At first, I thought he was doing it all on purpose. By avoiding you, that would only mean that you think about him more, which is exactly what he wants."

"But at the wedding," I told him, my voice not even a whisper. "Robyn told me he was locked up in his house for a week."

"Coop told me that the other day," He nodded. "He said that he was talking briefly with Chief Donohue about a drugged teenager that was admitted to the ER the other day and they somehow stumbled into the topic of Nathaniel. Apparently, he hasn't been at the station for weeks – he said he has a freakish case of the flu and can't even stand to be outside in the sunlight. Coop immediately saw through the lie and knew that it had everything to do with you."

His voice remained relatively calm throughout his whole explanation.

"So then I thought that Nathaniel was using this lie just to evade judgment," He continued. "The Quileutes are all very closely knit, so to see Nathaniel go hermit on everyone is extremely out of the ordinary. At least that's what Adam told me when I called him the other day."

"You called him?" I was honestly surprised.

"Whether he has relations with Nathaniel or not," Mason said. "We are still friends. Besides, we wanted to catch up with each other – status reports, actually. You see, we feel like we are the prison guards. I'm watching you and the Quileutes are watching Nathaniel."

"I feel like a lab rat," I complained.

He laughed silently under his breath. "Well, you won't be under observation much longer, I promise. We've decided to give up on babysitting you two because … well, because, first and foremost, we're tired of it. It's too much work. And second, because you are getting much better."

"You call these crank calls 'getting better'?"

"I overheard what you said," He admitted, and I could tell in his voice that he was apologetic. "You said that you wouldn't be calling anymore. And, in my opinion, that means you are getting much, much better." He leaned closer and kissed my forehead.

"And Nathaniel?" I was awfully curious.

"What about him?" Mason looked down at me.

"Is he getting better?" I wondered.

The last time I had seen Nathaniel at his house, he'd said that each day was getting gradually better than the last. Even though I had left his house that day with tears down my face and fists clenched, I was still reassured by that smiling face that he was okay. Although the image of the enraged Nathaniel that I was not familiar with was permanently etched into my brain, I kept the mindset that he was still the person I remembered from those three weeks – he was still the Nathaniel I loved.

"Um," Mason paused, looking away from me slowly. "Well, he's not doing very well. Not as good as you. He's still … broken."

"Did he get my messages?" I wondered anxiously.

"I don't know," He pushed my hair behind my ear.

"I just wish he knew," I buried myself deeper into Mason's chest, sensing that there were tears threatening just beyond my last nerve. "Sometimes I think he doesn't even worry about me. He just sits there in that dinky little house of his fantasizing about the girl he doesn't even know."

Mason froze. "Doesn't know?"

"If I recall correctly," I exhaled. "He fell in love with me before he even really knew me. He probably only remembers the Scarlett that his imagination came up with. That's probably the only thing he _can_ remember … it's been too long."

There was silence as the wind brushed against the side of the house.

"So did you ever figure Nathaniel out?" I asked him quietly.

"I have a final theory," He whispered, continuing to brush my hair sweetly through his fingers. "I believe that you and he are simply masochists that enjoy nothing more than to watch yourselves suffer."

My eyes met his.

"And you can't object," He added quickly. "Because, so far, you haven't done anything to stop your suffering."

"I'm trying," I protested.

"Are you?" Mason challenged.

Brushing out of his grasp, I stood and walked down to the very bottom of the stairwell so that, even though he was still sitting, we were face to face. My arms dangled by sides tautly and I clenched my fists, closing my eyes equally as tight.

"I want to get this right," I began to explain, opening my eyes again. "There is nothing significant I'm able to fix. There are inward quirks of mine and maybe a various habit or two that I could possibly fix, but things like the fate of another person or the attitude of someone towards me is not something I can adjust. If Nathaniel wants to change, then Nathaniel will change. If he doesn't, then he won't.

"But I am not going to go down there to him and try to convince him to come back to life, because I know that if I do, I will only counterproductively force him even deeper into isolation for even longer, and it will only hurt me more than I already am. This isn't a pattern. This is the way things are.

"Hopefully, one day, I will get my friend back. He will come back the way I remember him – laughing and smiling and staring at me with those eyes that say he would do anything for me. For awhile I thought that if he really cared about me, he would have been at my wedding. But now I know that if he really cared about me, he would come back to me and make things right when he had the chance. Here's his chance, and I know that he has the guts to take it. I'm just scared that he doesn't have any life left to go for it.

"Maybe," I finished, "I will never see him again, but I promise that you will never have to worry about me being heartbroken over Nathaniel ever again. I won't let him ruin the rest of my life with you. I love you, and that's all that matters."

Mason smiled tiredly, reaching out and taking my hands.

I loosened my fists and unlocked my fingers so that they fit effortlessly into the palms of hands. He rubbed his thumb across my skin and I just silently watched him as he breathed, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

"That was a pretty commendable speech," He grinned widely. As I simpered, he added quietly, "Right up there with _I __Have __a __Dream_, most definitely."

He pulled me into his grasp, and the warm touch soothed my tense muscles.

"I love you," He murmured into my ear. "And I trust you to know what's good for you."

"I've noticed that most of my pain is self-inflicted," I ran my hand through his blonde hair. "So I think I'm past the point of knowing what's good for me."

He smiled, "Well, remember what I said. You're strong. You can do this."

"Yeah," I shrugged, watching his eyes as they watched me. "But Nathaniel has the upper hand. You were right – it's sick how much influence he has over me, and believe me, I hate it." I paused to take a deep breath. "But, knowing that I have to live life without him is too painful for me."

His eyebrows furrowed innocently.

"I knew this would happen," I said mainly to myself. "I knew that if I chose one of you, then I would have to live life without the other. That's why I didn't want to decide. That's why it was so difficult for me. It's not that it was a hard choice, it's just that the consequences were hard."

He said meekly, "I always thought it was hard because you loved him more."

"No," I shook my head. "I love him, yes, but I had already made my decision a long time ago. I just didn't want to face judgment day because I knew what I was losing. I knew he would leave my life, but I didn't think he'd purge himself of me completely."

"Well, I am sorry I put you through that," He apologized pointlessly.

"You didn't put me through it," I shook my head. "It was all my own doing."

He gently placed my head between his shoulder and chin.

I was listening to his heartbeat intently when I said, with sarcasm dripping off my tongue, "I guess I never knew I was so attractive. And I most certainly never knew that I was worth all of this attention."

"Oh, you're worth it," He chuckled under his breath.

"It will be hard to live without him," I exhaled, staring out the front door at the streetlamp. I could see soft raindrops beginning to fall. "He is my best friend and I can't ignore all of those times he was there for me and I wasn't there for him. But, if he wants to live without me, then it looks like I will have to live without him."

"And you're okay with that?" Mason sighed.

"Of course not," I glimpsed up at him and then back out at the rain. "But, from here on out, I'm not going to let him have that kind of power over me. I love him with all my heart and I'm going to miss him, but that's life, right?"

He stared forward blankly, "Yeah."

His blue eyes stared straight at the wall, the light color suddenly turning dark. I grinned, reaching up and putting my hand to his face. "What's with the distant stare?"

He brought his eyes to mine and they grew bright again. "Sorry. I blanked out for a second there." Standing, we both began to make our way up the steps, but he stopped halfway. "Hey, you go on up. I'll be there in a second, I'm just going to get a drink."  
>"Okay," I smiled, my hand hesitantly leaving his grasp.<p>

He went down the steps and disappeared around the corner.

I dragged my feet to my bedroom, staring straight ahead of me and straining my ears so I could hear the erratic rainfall above me. I hated knowing that I was hurting so many people at once. I was hurting Nathaniel, and by doing that, I was upsetting Mason, and by doing that, I was only killing myself. Who knew I would turn out to be such a hopeless case?

But what I had said downstairs was not a lie. I vowed that I would work to make things right, whether Nathaniel wanted to or not. My life would not be soiled by the mere memory of him. And, even though I had made this promise to myself several times, this time I would keep it.

I continued listening to the rain and it relaxed me slightly. Once I reached our room, I collapsed on the bed, hopelessly counting the seconds as they passed. The raindrops counted with me, until they were interrupted by a deep, guttural growling noise. The sound accelerated and then revved, and my heart pounded inside my chest.

I stood, hurriedly leaving my room and walking over to the _Twilight_ room. I stared out the window that looked down onto the driveway, searching the darkness. Then my eyes found it – I saw the Volvo speeding around the corner just before it disappeared.


	27. Chapter 21, pt 2

"I invited some people over today," Mason told me.

I had been busy staring out the window in the kitchen that I had almost missed what he had said. The morning light poured through the window today, the rarity that was the sun poking its head out from behind the clouds. It was gorgeous. The rain from last night sparkled in the minimal sunlight – the ground was practically alight with gleaming dew.

My eye met his. "Like who?"

"Well, Lilli and Anthony offered to come up," He answered, walking over pantry and coming out with some batter for our pancakes. "And I called Karolina to see if she would've liked to come too, and it turns out that Ashley and Taylor have been staying with her in San Diego for awhile."

"That sounds great," I grinned. "It will be nice to see my friends again."

"I thought you would like that," He poured some milk into the batter and began to stir it up. "We've been a little too reclusive lately. All we do is go to work and come home, and I could tell you were getting bored with that routine."

"I'm not bored," I denied.

He glanced over at me questioningly.

"Okay, so I was kind of bored," I shrugged. "We need to start getting out of the house more. This schedule reminds me too much of my eight months of sad lonesomeness – those were the dark ages for me, but surprisingly productive when it came to writing." I smiled and so did he.

"Well, you should start thinking about hitting the paper again," Mason grinned. "It's not like we need it, but I would love a spare half million, if you don't mind."

"No," I sighed. "I don't want the money. It just means more useless gifts."

"Oh, come on," He whined jokingly. "Useless gifts are my specialty."

"Well, that's really too bad," I looked out the window again. "I am immune to all forms of flattery. It just makes me think that you are trying to hide something from me."

"You don't have to worry about that," He smiled. "I've got nothing to hide. I just have a nasty habit of spoiling my wife – it's a curse for me, really."

I grew serious for a moment. "Nothing to hide? There's nothing to tell me?"

He rolled his eyes, "I'm not going to tell you, so you can just stop asking. The only way you will ever find out what happened is if Nathaniel tells you. Besides, it's nothing really worth talking about."

I leaned back in my chair, knowing he was wrong.

It had been almost a week and a half since Mason drove off in the Volvo and didn't come back for almost two hours. I sat hopelessly waiting in the bedroom, the unease eating me inside out – now I knew what Mason felt like when I ran out of the house. Nonetheless, despite my anxiousness, I fell asleep before Mason got home, so I couldn't interrogate him. Since then, the only thing I could pull out of him was that he went to the Reservation.

He refused to tell me anything else.

The inside of my head was a mess. I could sit for hours just imagining the possibilities of what could have happened. Did they fight? Did they argue? Did they make amends? The unknowingness in the pit of my stomach would surely kill me.

"Please tell me what happened," I begged.

"Everyone will be here at one o'clock," He discarded my last statement. "I'm going to go to the Thriftway to pick up some food and I'm not leaving you here all by yourself, so you're coming with me."

"I thought you were through babysitting me," I complained.

"I'm not babysitting," He shook his head. "I'm just a concerned husband. Besides, if I leave you here, then I will probably come back to find you gone."

"Unlikely," I mumbled under my breath. "Who would I go to?"

"I'm not worried about who'll go to as opposed to where," He exhaled, flipping the pancakes onto a plate. "All I can see in the back of my head is you wandering into the woods. And we all remember how that turned out."

Instinctive reaction: I felt the back of my head where the stitches had been.

"Besides, I am determined to make today great," He vowed. "And that can only mean that my imagination has gone wild. You need to come with me to stop me from doing anything too far-fetched."

"You're right," I nodded. "A get-together to you is like a total rager."

"Tie me down," He smirked.

After we ate our breakfast, we got dressed and headed out to the supermarket. Mason let us take my car and he let me drive – I felt like I hadn't gotten behind the wheel of my monster in too long.

Perhaps it was because all the memories in it had gone sour; when I had run home that fateful day, I had accidently left my truck back at Nathaniel's. Adam and Dylan brought it back a couple days later and it almost pained me to get in – the interior reeked of the Reservation. The salt water mist, the strong smell of motor oil, and a lingering air of Hawk. If I closed my eyes and inhaled it, I would have sworn I was actually there, I would have sworn I was with him …

We ran into Krista at the Thriftway, and I don't think I had ever seen her smile so big. She was thrilled – she must've told us twenty times that she was now officially a grandmother. Asher and Gabrielle were already in the process of buying a house right down the street from Krista and Andy; and Asher had already applied for a job at a local hardware store in Port Angeles. She urged us to visit, saying that she was tired of shunning people now that her son was back. She also wanted me to help her arrange a proper funeral for Gemma, one that she deserved.

Once we got back to the house, it was almost noon and I was actually feeling excited. I helped Mason start to prepare the salads and he went out to the back porch to start grilling the hotdogs. I was in the middle of putting the potatoes in tinfoil when the doorbell rang.

It was Lilli and Anthony, both of them with wide smiles on their faces. I had to refrain from attacking Lilli when she came in – it felt so long since I had last seen her. We had only been talking for a couple of minutes before everyone else arrived.

After finishing all of our food, we sat around the dining room table, talking and laughing with one another. All the while, Mason kept his arm around me, holding me closely. His eyes would lock with mine frequently, and the smile on his face reassured me that nothing in the world could be wrong right now.

Around three, there was a knock on the door.

"Who's that?" I wondered, standing.

"Probably Coop," Mason let go of me hesitantly. "I told him he could come if he didn't have a very busy shift today."

I made my way to the door, listening as my friends continued to chatter. The sound of their laughter was reassuring and it made me feel content – it was good to have people around. The more voices I had to occupy my brain (other than my own) made the road to sanity that much clearer.

But I might've spoken too soon.

I pulled open the door, and a pair of big chocolate eyes stared back at me, almost foreign to me by now. Nathaniel's hair was greasy and matted, falling in front of his eyes in unusual strands. His eyes were wider and his cheeks were flatter than I remembered. His eyebrows were creased, and permanent frown lines were etched around his lips.

If I hadn't been so awestruck, I might've had the voice to be angry at him.

"Hey," He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Hey," I repeated after him, disappointed that we had gone back to basic greetings after all this time.

He didn't say much more after that, either waiting for me to speak or having no words to say. The silent time was enough for me to regain myself – now I had the voice to be angry, to be furious.

"Why didn't you return my calls?" I snapped.

"I didn't know you were calling me," He shrugged silently. "Mason was the one that told me a week ago."

"You know, y-you are lucky I don't rip you to shreds right now," I stammered, biting my lip. "You have no idea how much you hurt me …"

He interrupted, "I know. And I'm sorry."

I froze, staring at him blankly. "You're _sorry_?"

"Isn't that what I'm supposed to be?" He exhaled, his eyes falling. "I thought you hated me, so I didn't call or anything …." His voice disappeared.

"I do hate you," I crossed my hands across my chest. "You have no idea how much I hate you. I can't believe you would do something so heartless to me. And it's like you didn't even care."

"Because, for a long time, I didn't," He admitted, reaching forward and pulling me out onto the landing, shutting the door behind me. "And then your husband comes to my doorstep and tells me that I was _killing_ you, that you weren't yourself. He said that you were just pieces of what you used to be … and I hated myself for doing that to you."

"What did you guys talk about when he went to you?" I asked.

"We weren't really talking," Nathaniel shrugged. "It was more like he was cussing me out and I just stood there listening."

"How did he get you to talk to him?" I wondered.

He laughed flatly, "He barged in the front door and forced me to listen."

I exhaled, looking down at my feet.

"And I'm glad he did," He added. "Because all my other friends thought giving me space was the best idea, and I thought it was good, too. But he just broke in and gave it to me straight."

My eyes returned to him.

"You know I could charge him for breaking and entering," Nathaniel looked away for a moment, and then he laughed softly and looked back at me.

"Why didn't you come to the wedding?" I asked pleadingly.

"Because I didn't want to watch it," He shook his head. "I wouldn't have been wanted there and I didn't want to be there. That's all there is to it."

"_I_wanted you there," I countered. "You have no idea how badly."

He muttered, "We both know that's a lie."

"It's not," I punched him in the chest, but it did little damage. "You're a jerk, you know that, right?"

He laughed silently and then looked back behind him.

I just then noticed his Ford humming in the driveway – I could see Dylan sitting in the front seat, looking away from us. When my eyes returned to Nathaniel, I realized that they had long since been on me.

"What's Dylan doing here?" I wondered.

"He's my chaperone," Nathaniel sighed, gritting his teeth. "It's his job to stop me from doing anything stupid."

"Nathaniel? Doing something stupid?" I crossed my arms across my chest. "That's pretty much inevitable if you ask me."

"I know I hurt you, and I apologized, didn't I?" He reached out for my hand.

I didn't give it to him. "It's going to take more than just an apology."

"Then," He pulled his hands away, dejected. "I'll give you time."

"No," My eyes widened. "Don't give me that. Time is the last thing I need. You've already given me too much time and I hate it."

He smiled again, but it wasn't whole. "I've come to hate time, too."

"I need your friendship," I begged, the wind blowing my hair in my face. "Not even that. You need to be my bodyguard. Without you around, I feel … unstable."

His eyes left mine and glanced inside. "You don't feel safe with him?"

"I feel safe with him," I reassured him. "But … actually, I think I've been scaring the hell out of him lately. I'm distraught, and he's not sure what he can do other than let me be."

"You're right," He nodded. "Mason told me he was terrified."

"Yeah, I think I forgot to put that on the qualifications," I mused, staring down at my feet. "A tolerance towards mild yet frequent depression, I mean."

When I looked back up, Nathaniel's eyes were straight on me – I hadn't noticed that he had taken two steps closer. "I hate what I've done to you. I promised that I would never leave you, but I did. And I feel crappy about it. I will gladly hand myself over to you. I'll be your servant for the rest of my life, if that's what it takes."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I already forced Mason into a life of servitude."

"He didn't do anything wrong," Nathaniel shook his head. "I did."

"He blames himself for letting me go into the woods," I told him. "But I think we all know that that would've happened eventually, whether someone let me or not. It was my fault, but Mason just doesn't want to hear that."

"It's not your fault, either," He challenged. "It's all me."

I stepped back, almost running into the back door. "Everyone seems to be playing the blame game. I think it's me, Mason thinks it's him, and you think it's your doing. Can't everyone just be normal and blame someone else for once?"

"I think you should take your own advice," He sighed.

"But it _is_ my fault," I tried to convince him. "Just think. If I hadn't been here, Mason never would have come to Forks, you would've never met me, and the wolves wouldn't have bothered me. Asher would still be here if I hadn't told him to leave, Krista would be fine. I'm not really sure if Gemma was my fault, but it probably had something to do with me – I probably angered the wolves into attacking everyone. Coop would keep on living his life and I wouldn't have resurrected the pain of his long-lost sister. Everyone would've had perfect lives if not for me."

"None of that is true …" He paused, his eyebrows furrowing. "You told Asher to leave?"

I pursed my lips, trying my hardest to glue them tight. _You __idiot_, my thoughts screamed. _You __just __gave __yourself __away!_ "I-I …" I stammered.

He surprised me by chuckling.

"You're laughing," My eyes widened. "Why are you laughing?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear it," He waved his hand carelessly. "I'm here as a friend, not as a cop."

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. He was scared."

"And I understand that," Nathaniel nodded. "I thought about what you said a long time ago – hell, I thought about everything you ever said to me while I was locked up in that little house of mine – and you were right."

"I often am," I sighed, but then I added, "What was I right about this time?"

"That I should've had sympathy for Asher because he was so much like me," He confessed, taking my hand. This time, I let him have it. "I ran away because I didn't know what to think. And I came back hoping that everyone wouldn't still hate me for leaving. Lucky for me, though, I didn't have to come home to jail."

I frowned, "Is that a done deal now? He's going for sure?"

"The trial hasn't happened yet," He shrugged. "Only Chief Donohue and I know that he's back. The rest of the PD doesn't even know. And, maybe, I could talk some influential people out of putting him behind bars. He has a life now and I would hate to interrupt that."

I grinned, thankful now more than ever that Nathaniel wasn't emotionless.

"But, I'm asking just out of curiosity," He sighed, intertwining our fingers together. I noticed, but I didn't mention it. "Why did he leave?"

"His girlfriend was pregnant," I answered honestly.

"Oh," He nodded. "He wanted to pretend it never happened by leaving."

"No, no," I shook my head. "His girlfriend was Gabrielle. He took her with him when he left. They decided to leave together actually, to avoid judgment."

His eyes widened. "So he didn't kidnap her?"

"He would never do something like that," I replied.

"Well, hell, Scarlett," Nathaniel sighed. "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Because I promised Asher I wouldn't," I told him. "Well, not directly. I made a promise with myself that I wouldn't tell anyone unless Asher told me I could. And, he still hasn't told me I could … so I guess I just broke my promise."

Nathaniel took a deep breath, "Oh, sweetheart."

He leaned his forehead against mine and stared into my eyes compassionately. Normally, his proximity would have made me angry – "Don't you know I'm married? Oh, wait that's right. You wouldn't know because you didn't come to the wedding" – but I couldn't be mad at him. I longed for him to be close to me, and he hadn't been so close to me in too long. Now was when I needed him most.

"You sure make a lot of promises," He murmured. I could feel his careful breaths wash over me. "You can't expect to keep them all, can you?"

"I can try," My eyes met his. "That's all I can ever do."

"Well, then," He smiled faintly, but his tone was grimly serious. "If you don't mind, I'd like to make one last promise with you."

I swallowed before saying, "Anything."

Fear swept over me – what if he wanted me to never see him again?

"Don't forget about me," He smiled a smile that would be stored within me for the rest of my existence. "And if that means remembering me as someone that you didn't love in one way, then do it. Remember me as the guy who needed you like the ocean needs the water."

I had no words to say.

He smirked, closing his eyes. "And tell your grandkids about me."

"You're talking like you won't be here to see them," I noticed.

"Only if you don't want me to be," He frowned. "I keep promises, too. If you don't want me around, I'm gone. All you have to do is say the word."

I waited impatiently for his eyes to open. I had to see his eyes.

When the deep chocolate blend finally met mine, I tried to read him as best I could. But I couldn't – he was dead serious. His smile wasn't there. Not because he was angry or upset, but because he wasn't joking.

"I'll agree," I sighed. "On one condition."

His eyebrows furrowed as the smile began to return. "Name it."

"You can't hate me," I looked into those eyes as if they spoke to me. "Not for marrying someone other than you and for not telling you that Mason was coming back … none of that. But not so much me – I don't want you to hate Mason because I love him. Don't hate him for something that I'm doing."

He stepped away from me, his eyes falling. "I don't hate you."

"But do you hate him?" I wondered.

"I did," He sighed, looking across the street at the trees. "Ever since the day you chose him, I hated him for stealing you away."

"But do you hate him anymore?" I was being a little too hopeful.

He turned, his eyes meeting with mine. Stepping around me, he pushed open the front door, "We'll see."

"If you don't keep your side, then I won't keep mine," I sighed.

"Well, how about this. I lied. I don't hate time anymore. Give it to me."

I nodded, stepping up onto the doorstep, "Alright, I will give it to you. As long as you do me a favor."

He chuckled, "So this is going to be one of those give-and-take relationships?"

"I'll give you time," I reached out for his hand. "If you spend the afternoon with me."

His eyes widened, "Your wish is granted."

"That also means you have to spend it with him," I reminded him.

He groaned, "Do I have to?" He sounded like a child.

"Yes," I pulled him into the foyer.

"Just let me tell Dylan," He tried to pull towards the door.

"No way," It took all my strength to try and drag him in. "_I_ am telling Dylan. You think I would let you escape that easily?"

"It was worth a try," he shrugged.

I made my way around him and back onto the porch. After waving to Dylan and signaling for him to come in, I turned back around and brought Nathaniel into the living room. Mason stood from the dining room table when he saw us come in and came up to us. Before they even said a word to each other, they exchanged underlying glances, probably thinking that I hadn't noticed.

"Nathaniel," Mason nodded carefully.

"Mason," Nathaniel greeted in the same way.

I pulled my eyes away from them and looked back at the dining room table. All eyes were on us, Nathaniel mostly. Lilli eyed him with wide eyes, glimpsing at me and smiling in approval. Taylor and Ashley looked pleasantly surprised, while Karolina just seemed to be studying his face. Anthony's eyes were on Mason, his expression suggesting that he expected a fight to break out.

My one hope in the world became that they didn't fight. Not now.

Bringing my eyes back to Nathaniel, I nudged him in the gut expectantly.

"Listen, man," He sighed, biting his lip so hard I thought it was going to bleed. "I've been a jerk …"

"Yes, you have," Mason eyed him suspiciously before his eyes met mine.

"Especially to her," Nathaniel continued. "And I want to apologize."

My eyes bounced back at forth between the two of them, trying to record and decode their expressions. It was difficult – they both had great poker faces.

Mason looked down at me briefly. "Just think. All this turmoil over _her_."

"We might've been friends if she hadn't decided to screw us all up," Nathaniel laughed quietly.

"Alright," I exhaled anxiously. "Enough bagging on me. Forgive."

A smile flicked across Mason's face as he held out his hand. "I forgive you."

Nathaniel exhaled, whether a sigh of angst or relief. I decided to go with relief.

"But I still have a lot of competitive energy in me," Mason continued on to say. "I don't know about you, but it's leaking out."

"I feel your pain," Nathaniel joked.

Dylan came in then, leaning in the doorway by the living room.

"Good," Mason sighed, grinning. "You've got another guy. How about a friendly game of two-on-two? Loser buys dinner."

"Fine by me," Nathaniel shrugged. "Looks like Mason's buying dinner."

"Anthony, you're with me," Mason turned to look back at the table and then began to walk towards the door. "Are you any good at basketball?"

Anthony stood. "I was the captain of my high school and college team."

Nathaniel glanced over at his friend. "You any good at basketball, Dylan?"

He laughed. "No way in hell, man. But I love a good contest."

I walked up beside Nathaniel and he looked down at me, his expression adorably nervous. "You're doomed," I told him as everyone made their way outside.

A smile crossed his face, "You of all people should know that I have the wonderful ability to be stupidly hopeful in the face of failure."

There was a basketball hoop across the street, set up between two of our neighbors' mailboxes. It belonged originally to the Barkers – their sons who had just left for college that past fall always made a habit of coming outside to play every afternoon right before dusk. After we asked permission, the Barkers let us take the hoop and put it at the head of our driveway to play.

While the guys battled it out on the wet asphalt, the girls stayed safely away, sitting on the porch steps. I kept my eyes on Mason and Nathaniel, happy to see that they were actually getting along. I wasn't such a fail after all.

"So are you all made up?" Lilli asked, grinning. When I nodded, she went on to say, "By the way, you forgot to tell me Nathaniel was so hot."

"I think his friend is cuter," Ashley smiled, glancing over at me.

"Dylan sure is a card," I reassured her with a laugh. "You'd like him."

Just then, we were interrupted by Nathaniel hooting loudly, "Looks like dinner is on you, Ryder! I'll be sure to order something expensive."

"Not if I make this jump shot," Mason twisted the ball in his hands, biting his lip in concentration.

Mason held the ball up and threw it forward, bouncing it off the rim and into the hoop. Nathaniel stood their agape, and when he found his voice again, began to jokingly accuse Mason of cheating.

"Best two out of three, Redborn?" Mason grinned, walking towards the steps.

"I'll beat you this time," Nathaniel laughed, passing the ball to Dylan.

Mason rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say. I just need to talk to one of the cheerleaders. I'll be back to whip your …"

"Hey," I stood up and approached him. "Be nice."

"Yes, ma'am," He chuckled, pulling me forward. "Are you having fun?"

"I am now that you guys are friends," I responded.

Mason laughed, "Not so much friends. Perhaps friendly _rivals_, but we're still working on the friendly part."

"But you're not at the 'going at each others throat' stage," I sighed.

"No," He smiled. "Who knows? I just might like the kid before I die."

"Maybe you can tell him that," I grinned hopefully. When Mason rolled his eyes, I added quickly, "Or at least put it in your last will and testament."

He lifted his hand and placed it gently on my cheek, rubbing my skin gently with his thumb. The touch sent my heart ablaze and I had to commit all my focus to controlling my breathing. He pulled my face closer, his lips meeting mine gently. He became more passionate, and, at first, I thought it was just to get under Nathaniel's skin. But then he pulled away.

Sighing, he promised, "I'm trying my hardest to make everything work."

"Well, you can stop trying," I grinned, pulling him as close to me as humanly possible. "Because you've already done it. Everything is officially in balance, from my idea of the word, at least."

He smiled, wrapping his arm around my waist. "And we'll keep it that way."

"I wouldn't get to hopeful," I joked. "We're talking about _me_, remember?You know, emanating pain and all that jazz?"

He chuckled under his breath, "I know we're talking about _you_. And that's all I ever care about, remember?"

I grinned, pulling him back into a kiss.

It was only a couple seconds before we were rudely interrupted. I heard the basketball bounce of the pavement near us and then I felt it hit Mason in the back. We both pulled away from each other and turned to look at the culprit. Instinctively, our eyes fell teasingly on Nathaniel.

His eyes widened as he shrugged, pointing at Anthony.

Anthony rolled his eyes as Mason picked up the ball.

"Hey, Mason," Nathaniel called. "I say we play shirts against skins."

Mason was about to protest, but I stopped him, pushing up the hem of his shirt and then pulling it over his head. "Looks like you two are on the same team."

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss me and then walking back to the driveway.

Nathaniel came up to me then, leaning down and glancing over towards the steps. "Quick question. Who is the girl with the long black hair?"

I glanced over at the steps. "Karolina?"

"Hmm," He paused to think, catching the ball when Dylan threw it at him. "Ask her if she is a Team Jacob fan. If she is, she might be willing enough to go Team Nathaniel." He laughed.

"Moving on already?" I feigned my best pouty face.

"No worries," He chuckled, kissing the side of my head. "I'll always be Team Scarlett. You can count on that."

I rolled my eyes as he walked away.

"Let's up the anti," Nathaniel guffawed as he dribbled the ball once. "Winner gets to kiss the girl of his choice."

"Thank God we're on the same team," Mason muttered to himself, shaking his head.

"I'm all for it!" Dylan laughed, stealing the ball from Nathaniel and turning to dunk it into the hoop.

I went to sit back down on the steps, watching intently as the game began.

But my thoughts couldn't help but wander elsewhere. So much had happened in the past few months, so much that it was almost hard to keep track. But I didn't regret anything. I couldn't.

All the pain, all the tears, all the nightmares – I would gladly go through it all again if it all added up to this very moment. Never again would I take this life of mine for granted, because it all turned out to be nothing short of perfection. Perfect in my eyes, at least.

The remorse for my mistakes was nothing in comparison to what I felt now. The fear that followed each of my tear-filled, sleepless nights was just a distant memory and could never be measured up to this feeling. This complacency was something that could not be matched or torn apart – it was an emotion that I had not felt for the longest time, and it undoubtedly had never been this strong. No emotion could ever surpass this in terms of influence or in terms of fulfillment.

And even tomorrow, the feeling wouldn't be able to dissipate.

And all of this was because I was too lucky. I had been so afraid that choosing one would eliminate the other from my life, and for a long time, I had been right. But now, I was able to live my life with the both of them. I no longer had to worry about one above the other – and that very thought would help me sleep at night.

The memories remained, of course.

I still had the heartbreak in my head. I still had the images from my horrific nightmares. But I also had the better moments stuck at the forefront of my brain – those three shining weeks, Mason's proposal, the wedding, and all the small, lovely moments in between. Nonetheless, no moment could ever match this one.

Breaking my concentration, I heard someone call my name.

Mason and Nathaniel had won.


	28. Bonus Chapter

_**My apologies. I had the chapter to post, but not the internet connection to post it with. Enjoy :)**_

Mason's POV

My foot never eased off the gas pedal.

And neither did it ever dare to touch the break.

The rain evened out and gained a steady tempo by the time I turned into La Push. Only the downpour disrupted the peace in this simple place; the trees rustled and the glow of lamplight poured out onto the grassy lawns of Quileute homes, which far and few between, separated by clumps of forest that hid the beaches. My tires floated across the wet pavement, gliding over the puddles that had taken refuge in the small potholes on the road.

I didn't go very far past the border line before I found the decrepit green house I had been looking for. I had only seen it once before, but Scarlett had never known. I was coming down to First Beach, just to straighten out my thoughts, when I passed this sad excuse for a home, in a split second noticing Nathaniel standing outside and waxing his Ford with some makeshift cleaner he had bought at the gas station up the road.

With later confirmation from Adam, I knew that this was where he called home – and if I hadn't come to hate his ass more than I already did then I might've actually felt sorry that this was all he could afford.

I turned onto the gravel driveway, slamming it into park and almost ramming into his dilapidated wooden porch. I was out of the car in an instant, running up to the door and ignoring the nails that unsteadily creaked underneath my weight. My fist collided with the door so hard that the inset glass rattled and the hinges shrieked.

My thoughts raced as I heard those muffled footsteps approaching; I could not help but imagine all the vile things I could do to him, all the things I _yearned_ to do to him after all that he had done to her ….

The instant the door clicked open, I lunged forward, gripping his sorry neck between my fingers and pinning him against the closest interior wall. Of all the fights I had ever been involved in, his first reaction was one that I had never encountered before – he was immediately submissive. It was not until after he realized who I was that he struggled to break free of my hold, attempting and failing to knee me in the stomach. I snarled curse words at him under my breath, strangling him tighter.

"What the hell, man!" He wheezed, his hands frantically trying to rip himself free from my hold.

"_Damn_ _you_!" I yelled, my temper flaring. "If you could only see what I see! If you could only see the face I have to look at every day in her eyes! Damn you for what you've done to her!"

Nathaniel lifted his fist and jabbed me in the chin, and, even though it began to throb, I positively refused let him out of my hold. I would not let him get off that easily. His russet face gradually grew burnt red in color – and that was when the guilt filtered in.

I loosened my deadlock and steadily lowered my arms.

He needed a moment to catch his breath.

"Damn you," I repeated quieter, shaking my head at him.

His eyes met mine, tiredly at first, but then his own rage overtook him. In the same moment, he charged for me, swinging back his fist and taking aim for my face.

… I knew that my first and foremost concern in this situation should have been to stay on my feet, but, in the fraction of a second that I had to react, I could only imagine the scenario that could potentially unfold tonight: I was a marvelous fighter, having had much practice what with wrestling in high school and, basically, bad relations in college, but, whether this victory was flawless or not, the chances of escaping unscathed were tremendously slim; I would pull up the drive and enter the pitch-black house, enter the bedroom to find Scarlett most likely asleep; I would cuddle up beside her as if nothing had changed between us, as if I had not driven off into the horizon to potentially kill her best friend, but, instead, as if I had simply gotten up to use the bathroom; and, then, she would come downstairs to find me the next morning, a yellowing bruise the size of a baseball around my eye, gashes the length of my fingers along my jaw, my nose twisted as if someone had turned it into putty and remolded it …

The things she would think … the nightmares that would haunt her …

_The __conclusions __she __would __inevitably __come __to_ …

Just in time, I ducked down and his fist collided with the air.

As much as I wanted to serve him back a dose of his own medicine, I put up my hands in surrender, stepping back too quickly when he tried at me again and jabbing the back of my knee at the corner of the coffee table.

"What? You get to punch me but I don't get to punch back?" He barked.

"Technically, I didn't punch you," I lowered my hands. "And, technically, you already punched me."

He rolled his eyes at me, lowering his fists as well, but remaining in a stiff, guarded stance. "What the hell do you want? I'm not taking visitors … or pity parties for that matter, so why don't you just get lost, alright?"

My efforts for peace – or, at least, truce – were difficult for me to hold on to; the desire to beat his face in was far too tempting. My hand snapped up, my fingers curled, about to pull back, but something stopped me mid-throw. And, even though I had been praying to God to give me this _one__chance_ to kill the man who was ruining my marriage … and even though He just gave to me, _I__couldn__'__t__do__it_.

I forlornly straightened out my fingers.

Nathaniel snickered under his breath. "I-I knew you didn't have it in you."

He was scared, I knew from his voice. And I got some sick satisfaction from that face; I wanted more and more of it, I became drunk off that one idea. If I could not physically abuse him, I would do it verbally as much as I possibly could.

"The things we do for women, eh?" He laughed, folding his arms.

I heaved heavily, grinding my teeth together. It was coming, I could feel it; I could hear it in my eardrums, pounding, as if it were a ticking time bomb. One scornful sound from his lips was all it took …

And I exploded. "How would you know! You've never been with a woman! You've haven't a clue how to treat her! You just wing it – you winged it with Scarlett! You _wanted_ to love her before you even knew who she was! How much did you _really _know about her? Probably _nothing_."

"I loved her," Nathaniel tried to defend himself.

"Of course you did," I hissed through my teeth. "I've known her for too long to just let her fall through the cracks. But you … _you_were the one shoving her down in the first place …"

He interrupted, his voice small, "You haven't known her that long."

"Oh, really?" I snarled. "Well, I guess my history with her would be the one thing you two decided not to cover. I've known Scarlett since the second grade – I dated her once in middle school, and I dated her _twice_ in high school. I took her to the prom, I broke up with her a month before graduation, and I fell into the most serious rut of my life in college … and then I came back to her … and she _took __me __back_ … with open arms …." My voice trailed off, but I was still steaming.

He had nothing to say.

"And that's one of the reasons I married her," I stepped forward, fuming, and, in turn, he stepped back. "Because I'm in _debt_ to her. I owe my life to that girl – but you just wanted her because of your own selfishness. Damn you, Redborn." I couldn't find a better phrase to sum everything up: _damn __you __to __hell, __Redborn_.

"I care about her," He muttered, so low I almost didn't hear him.

"Yeah, I know," I shook my head, glancing out at the rain to avoid looking at him. "And, for some stupid reason, she cares a hell of a lot for you. For some stupid reason that I will _never _understand." And, thinking of earlier that evening, my eyes shot back to him. "Speaking of which, did you know that she has been calling you for the past two months _every __night_? If you can't count, that's over _sixty_ phone calls. And you were too pigheaded to even answer _one_ of them."

He glanced over at this answering machine.

… It was unplugged. God, dammit.

"I didn't want to talk to anyone," He confessed quietly.

"Well, she wanted to talk to you," I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"I can't believe her …." He mumbled under his breath, his eyebrows furrowing. When his voice picked up again, he sounded beyond confused, "Wait. And you _let _her make all those phone calls to me?"

I stared at him indifferently.

"I mean," He shrugged. "Wasn't it strange for you? To know that your wife was downstairs calling another man _every __night_ …?"

"Shut up," I snapped.

He nodded. "So it did bother you."

I swallowed, waiting a long time before speaking again in a much quieter tone, "Of course it bothered me. But it didn't seem nearly as bizarre as you'd think compared to some of the other things that have been going on between me and her."

"Are you breaking up?" I would've thought he'd say that hopefully. He didn't.

I suppressed my shock that he actually sounded concerned and replied, "We have an odd relationship, Scarlett and I. There's a lot going on underneath the skin that no one else can see. And, with us, it's like we're the only ones that can see each other's under layer. And right now … her under layer isn't looking real good."

"Is she okay?" He wondered solicitously.

I had to remember this guy hadn't been in the know for over a month now.

"I want to lie to you and say yes," I looked down at the floor. "She cries every night in her sleep and she says that sometimes she has these nightmares that don't make any sense. She's lost … and I don't know really where to look for her."

Nathaniel frowned.

I let out a deep breath. "I'm terrified out of my mind."

"Why?" His eyes had been focused on the window, but now they were on me.

"I just don't know what to do anymore," I let my shoulders drop. "If I try to comfort her, she just assumes that I believe what's happening to us is all my fault. And, if I leave her to herself, she gets scared that I don't love her as much as I used to. I can't be near her, but at the same time I can't go away … who knows what she'll do, then."

"Sounds confusing."

"That's the married life."

Nathaniel shook his head, returning to his usual, irrational senses. "Well, then what are you doing crying to me about it? Don't you have Dr. Cooper or some of your other rich friends to talk to? There's nothing I can do – Scarlett doesn't want me anymore."

Just when I started to like the kid, it was only karma that he would turn right around and make me hate him again. "Dammit, man, you just don't get it, do you?"

"What's there to get?" He sighed. "Sounds like your problem. Not mine."

"She is this way because of you!" I pushed him down and he fell onto the futon, almost knocking over the table lamp in the process. "I'm going to tell this to you straight – hopefully in a language you will understand.

"She's not this way because of me or because of anyone else," I shot at him. "You're the one that made her this miserable. You know, one time her friend told me that the one thing Scarlett is most afraid of is _change_. And, getting married, juggling her friendships and nearly getting _attacked _by a _wolf_ is a lot of change. So I made it my main goal to make sure the change was as easy for her to handle as it could possibly be. And, then, you, Mr. My-Life-Sucks-So-I'm-Going-To-Tear-Her-To-Pieces, step in and pulverize her so hard, she doesn't even feel like waking up anymore."

I felt the sudden urge to cry.

"You're her husband," He leaned forward, staring at me under sweaty brows. "I'm not. So it's not my job. It's yours. Do something about it."

"Do something about it?" My voice was practically silent in stifled amazement. Was this guy really _that_thick? "You're telling me to do something about it? Well, let me tell you this, I was _trying_ to do something about it. And then I come downstairs tonight – when she's calling _you_ – and she says to me that she is not, in any way, okay without you."

Nathaniel's eyes fell.

"Do you know what it's like," I said in a low voice, a guttural threat hiding behind each of my words, "to hear your own wife say that she loves and misses another man with all her heart, and then to have her realize that that person is never coming back? 'That's life, right?' She said. And I said yes, but I wanted to say _hell __no_. And that is exactly why I am here – if she thinks that life is where everything is unfair and everyone hates her, then I will do whatever it takes to make this better for her."

His eyes were back on me, brighter now that he knew she loved him. _Damn_.

"And the only way I can think of to make it better," I stepped forward, "is to start with whipping your ass."

"I'm sorry," He stood up in a flash, putting up his hands.

"_Sorry_?" I rolled my eyes. "Saying that to Scarlett might make her melt like putty in your hands, but I'm not falling for it. You think I'm going to let you slide after what you did to her? … After what you're still _doing_ to her?"

"Mason," He stopped me, going quiet all of a sudden. "You have no idea how painful it's been for me the last few weeks. So, when I say sorry, I mean it."

My tensed jaw relaxed a bit.

"Getting beat up might be an improvement compared to how I've been feeling lately," He exhaled, he stepping away, yielding to my defenses and lowering his hands. "So give it go." He flinched.

I took a deep breath, trying to fight the urge to roll my eyes. "Now, that's not fair, Nathaniel. I'm perfectly okay with beating you up when you try to fight back, but if you're just going to stand there and cringe while I punch you in the gut, it won't be nearly as redemptive. At least try to swing at me first."

He looked at me with wide eyes. "I can't."

"And why not?" I stuffed my hands in my pockets. "I know you've been dying to kill me since the moment we met … or probably since the moment you knew about me. C'mon, here's your chance. I'm _letting_ you."

"I can't …" He repeated. And then his voice went inaudible.

I didn't hear the rest of what he said. "What?"

"I can't …" He said again, brushing the carpet with his heel. "She'll hate me."

I sighed, knowing exactly where he was coming from. "She won't hate you nearly as much as she'll hate me."

"She'll hate us both," He scratched the nape of his neck.

I looked away from him. "Good point."

He took a deep breath that sounded somewhat like a whimper.

I realized then that I shouldn't have come. "Um, well, if you don't mind, I'm probably going to punch a tree or something on my way out. Just to let it all go, you know. So, uh … have a nice night."

He nodded, lifting his hand in a weak wave.

I made my way for the door, whipping back the handle and about to step on the sagging landing when I froze in the doorstep. What the hell was I doing? On one (selfish) hand, this could be my chance to be Scarlett's knight in shining armor. On the other (not so selfish) hand, this could be my chance to get my wife out the rut she was in and get this guy out of the rut that he was in …. But how to get him to listen …?

Turning, I looked back at him. "What do you think is the matter?"

He had clearly not expected me to turn around and he had most definitely not expected me to play physiatrist. "Mason, you don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do," I walked back in, slamming the door behind me.

The house shuddered precariously.

"If you love her like you say you do," I said slowly. "Then go see her, because she can think you're gone for good all she wants, but I know it would mean the world to her if you came back. She'll be happy again."

Nathaniel shook his head. "We both know you don't want me back in her life. Why are you doing this? What's in for you?"

I exhaled, sick of his excuses. "I don't know. Her gratitude … and whatever that entails."

He shuddered, looking down at the floor. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do," I said lowly. "She doesn't like to talk about those three weeks with me. And, at first, I thought it was because they were bad for her – but now I know it's because she's trying to keep her life with you separate from her life with me. She wants you, and if you're too blind do see that then maybe you should just never come back."

"She doesn't talk to you about it because she's embarrassed," He scowled.

"Embarrassed of what? What is there to be embarrassed of?"

He looked down at the floor again, muttering, "We kissed."

I shrugged. "I know." When his eyes widened, I explained, "What? Did you think she just walked into those woods because she was bored? No, she walked out because she told me what happened between you two and we got in a fight about it."

"She told you?" He seemed surprised.

"Told me the guilt was killing her," I responded.

"Guilt," He repeated after me, shaking his head and swallowing hard.

"But that's not the worst of it," I stared at the carpet blankly. "She keeps saying that she's upset about it … but I know she liked it."

"Don't even joke about that," He spat roughly.

"I'm not joking," I vowed, putting up my right hand. "She doesn't know she liked it all because, the moment it happened, she didn't know what to do. She's used to reacting with me and, with me, it's instinctive for her. But, with you, it's a whole new ballgame. I bet if you did it again, she'd kiss you back."

He looked up at me, a smile forming.

"Don't push your luck," I gritted my teeth.

"Sorry," He apologized, smiling. If I let him have his way, I knew he would've been all over her … and, even though that was not really something I enjoyed thinking about, I had to respect and understand that he just wanted what any guy wants: the satisfaction of winning.

This was a fight I'd been fighting for awhile now. And I wasn't about to lose.

"Does she talk about me?" He blurted out randomly.

I glanced at him, and, for a brief second, I actually felt bad for him. I knew how it felt to get the girl you wanted ripped away from you …. "Um," I scratched the back of my head awkwardly. "Not really, no. But I know she thinks about you."

"You're just saying that," He mumbled.

I could tell what he was doing right off the bat – the more he knew she cared about him, the more victorious he felt. And I wasn't about to give him that kind of satisfaction, but he had guilted me into at least letting him think he was.

"If the phone calls aren't enough to make me say it," I said, hating that the words I said were a hundred-percent fact. "Then it might have something to do with the fact that she says your name in her sleep."

He looked down again, only this time it was to hide his widening grin.

I swallowed, pushing back the vomit that was creeping up my throat.

"When you go home tonight," He smiled at me. "Tell her I miss her, too."

No. "Sure."

At my words, his face lightened and his smile grew bigger than I had ever seen it. My attempts at not gagging were failing miserably and I had to think up some way to get that smile off his face before I couldn't take it any longer.

I sighed, "Or you could tell her yourself."

And the smile was gone in a flash. _Victory __is __sweet_.

"I could never face her," He confessed, parting his lips as if he wanted to say something more but his voice simply refused to cooperate with his brain and no words came out.

"Well, you better man up and face her soon. Because I don't know how much longer she can take it without you." I took a deep breath. "And I don't know how much longer I can take seeing her this way."

"She's got you," He said disgustedly. "She'll live."

"Yeah, well, maybe not," I grimaced. "I can only hope I'm enough for her."

Nathaniel looked out the window, his pupils darting down with the raindrops that hit the glass. The window had turned into a dark mirror that reflected my inner monster – which just so happened to be curling back into its cage.

If there was one quality of my wife's that I absolutely adored and utterly loathed, it was her sensitivity. I loved the kind of person that she was, since this was a part of her – the kind that wanted me to protect her. But I _hated_ that it was not simply a trait, but an _effect_; it was peeling away my testosterone like the skin of an orange.

It was this sensitivity that had become my own at fault for my sympathy.

I cleared my throat. "We shouldn't hate each other nearly as much as we do."

"And why is that?" He breathed deeply through his nose, his nostrils flaring.

It was all up to me now, I knew. There was a choice between doing what Scarlett wanted and not having to give in to my enemy. Right now, I was trying to decide which would be more satisfying – finishing this guy off or making amends with him just to get her appreciation later.

"Because we have one of the biggest things in common." I paused. "Her."

"It's not really something we have in common anymore, Mason," Nathaniel took a deep breath, smiling to hide his frown. "She doesn't belong to me."

"Yeah," I nodded, giving that much to him. "But we both love her."

I felt like he was able to stare right through me.

"And she loves us both." If neither of us could win, it would be a draw.

He closed his eyes for a long time. "I would come back to her if I could, but I can't. Why even try anymore if she's already decided?"

I would stab myself for saying this later. _Damn __sensitivity_. "She marries Edward but Jacob is still in her life at the end."

He laughed at the _Twilight _reference. "Kind of freaky how you know that."

"I married Scarlett," I smirked. "She's shoves a dose of vampires down my throat weekly."

"That bites," He joked.

"It's not that bad anymore," I decided. "I've numbed to the feeling by now."

He chuckled, wiping the side of his mouth.

There was a moment of silence where the rain seemed to have stopped and the fog seemed to have lifted from his eyes. And, as his smile vanished, there was a soft whisper that I at first doubted to be him and not the wind, "I wish I were you."

The words burned like vinegar as they left my throat. "You've had more luck in your life than I have. Besides, you know how the story goes – we do the body switch and then realize we are perfectly satisfied with the life we had before."

He shrugged. "I didn't have much of a life before this. And it doesn't look like it'll be cherry pie from here on out. You must've done something right. Something that I should've – what was it? The friends? The job? The girl?"

I laughed quietly. "I don't have has nearly as many friends as you think. The only one that can come to mind is Coop, possibly Adam. Scarlett's dying to get you and me on the friendship level but I don't see that coming for us."

Nathaniel was unresponsive.

"And I think this is the longest I've ever held a job before," I rubbed my chin. "I got fired from my last job for mouthing off to my boss. And I got fired from the one before that for purposely drugging myself up with the antibiotics. And the ones before that seem like too far in the distant past for me to remember, but I was let go for reasons that I'm not particularly proud of."

He pretended to be indifferent, but I could hear the rusted wheels in his head screech as they turned.

"So, I guess, in one way you're right," I admitted. "She is the only good decision I have ever made. I just took too many stupid detours to get back to where I started."

He was still as he spoke. "You must really love her."

"Like you wouldn't believe," I answered. Adding after a moment, "But she's gotten under my skin more than once." I couldn't help but laugh at the end.

"Then make a promise with me," His eyes were on mine in an instant. "I will come back, if you take care of her."

I nodded. "That's a given."

"I'm still going to hate you with all that I have in me," He clenched his fist. "I may want to punch you in the gut every time I look at you …"

"You had that chance tonight," I interrupted.

He either didn't hear me or chose to ignore me. "But if it means making her happy, then I will come back no matter what. Not immediately, but I will …. I just need a little more time."

"Deal."

He leaned forward, extending his hand.

I took it carefully, shaking it. "I hate you."

"And I hate you," He let go after only one shake.

I inched towards the door, wanting to get back home. "For dignity's sake, I won't tell Scarlett anything about tonight. If she wants to know then she'll just have to come to you."

"Does she know you're here?" He wondered.

"I didn't tell her," I replied. "But I'm sure she knows. You were our rather unpleasant topic of conversation before I left and I bet she saw me leave. She's probably terrified out of her skin – probably thinking the worst is going to happen."

"Want me to give you a black eye?" He lifted his fist. "Just for ambiance?"

"If anything, you would have to be the one that ended up bloody," I sighed. "If I come home unscathed, she'll be relieved, but, when she sees you all beat up, she'll just be all over you again. Besides, I can't butcher her like that – she's already half dead, anyway."

He flinched, swallowing.

"This isn't some minor thing, Nathaniel," My casualness was gone almost immediately. "This is full-blown. You're _murdering_ her."

"I didn't mean to," He whimpered, resembling a child in the midst of his consequences.

"I know that," I exhaled. "I would've killed you by now if you'd meant it."

He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. "God."

I put my hands in my pockets, waiting for him to speak again.

"I'm really stupid," He muttered under his breath.

_Tell __me __something __I __don__'__t __know_, I thought. _You__'__re __just __figuring __this __out _now_?_

"Forgive me, Mason," He looked up at me – I expected him to apologize to Scarlett, but to me? I didn't see that coming. "I really screwed up …. Damn, I feel like an idiot."

I was distracted when I said. "We all make mistakes."

He sat down on the futon, burying his face in his hands.

I decided to leave him to his thoughts as I stepped over to the door. "You're not the only idiot," I mumbled as I walked out. I was sure he heard me.

**Expect a preview of my new "Punching in a Dream" fanfiction this coming Thursday****. **


	29. Punching in a Dream Preface

**_I apologize for not updating for awhile, but I have the least dependable computer on the face of the earth. _**

_Preface—Punching in a Dream_

This was what I had feared.

This was precisely what Edward had said would happen.

But he had been wrong in one particular respect, at least….

It was not I who had fallen prey to the temptations of this life, or its advances; it was not I who had taken the chance, or the fall, or the offering; it was not I who had fallen in love _incorrectly_.

But it would be I who was to die tonight, if I decided to stay.

"Olivia," Jacob whispered beside me. "Don't move."

We could hear the slow, deafening footsteps coming up the dark stairwell, the shadow of the monster cast across the wall. The bare skin of my stomach was warmed by Jacob's consoling touch. He knew what was going to happen to him as well as I did. It was not me he was trying to comfort, but himself.

We both knew either I would die. Or he would.

There was no possibility that the two of us would be able to choose to die together or live on together. There was no alternative.

"Goodbye," He said quietly into my ear. And, then, he was up out of my grasp in a flash, disappearing into the black hallway, not even the light of the moon reaching us underneath the tree's cover.

I heard a loud rip and a pained whimper and exasperated howl before I clenched my eyes shut and cowered into the pillow… I opened my eyes, sitting up in my sunshiny bedroom, noticing that my mascara had stained the pillowcase, and I looked out my open door into the wrong hallway as if I had expected Jacob to still be dying there….


End file.
